The Agent And The Host
by ShunKickShunKers
Summary: For the sake of an investigation, Lisbon goes undercover in a Host Club. Unfortunately, she meets the owner's right hand Patrick Jane and her life will never be the same. Lisbon/Jane AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! I've written this fic a very long while ago (around season 2 I think) and I thought I had lost it. Fortunately, I found it back on one of my old plugs, so here goes :)**

 **The fic is written and done, so I will update regularly (every 2 days or so).**

 **Thanks to Chibi for beta-ing this back in the time ^^**

 **Warning: AU all the way...Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **1.**

At first glance, you would never know the sober building was hiding beneath its walls. But as soon as the door opened, bright colours and elegant decoration greeted the visitor, along with the title ' _Red Host Club'_ over the second entrance. Teresa Lisbon glanced at the snobbish paintings and statues on the side while she walked pass them. This looked more like a museum entrance than a club, but then she didn't step in these particular establishments every day.

At the end of a short entrance hall, a young woman was standing behind a desk. Lisbon took another deep breath and headed towards the reception. The employee had blond –almost white- hair and was dressed in a sexy scarlet shinny top, wearing a badge on which was written the name 'Betty'. As soon as she spotted her, the young woman flashed such a large bright white smile Lisbon was tempted to back off while she still could and pretend she never crossed the threshold.

"Good afternoon ma'am." _Too late_ "Can I help you?"

"Hi," she replied uncomfortably. _Oh come on Teresa_ she scolded herself, _it's not like you haven't done undercover before. Stop sounding you're going to faint._ "I…I actually…to be honest it's the first time I…" she added nervously. "I heard a friend talking…and I wanted to try."

Betty smiled understandingly. Lisbon figured she mustn't have been the first one to be so perplexed by the functioning of these businesses; a place to be courted by young men with no physical intercourse afterwards, just plain romance. Even if she was single for the moment, Lisbon knew she would never set a foot in these establishments willingly. Their public must be in really, really desperate lack of romance.

"Of course. A lot of people don't really know what to expect when they come here unknowingly. I will just ask you an ID and fill this form," she added, handing her a piece of paper. "The membership card is 150 USD and if you take it right away, you have a cut of fifteen percent every time you come around. Otherwise the entrance costs 250 USD. After that, we have different offers depending on the frequency of your visits."

Lisbon nodded numbly and did what she was asked to, settling on a comfy red couch near a table. Thankfully she wasn't using her own credit card or money to pay the membership; or she would have pulled a face at the price. She had never been part of a club whatsoever since her teenage years and the only card claiming she belonged to some group was her badge officer. Despite her lack of experience with associations and stuff, she didn't need to register in one to figure this was a bit expensive. But then, the Red Host Club was, according to rumours, a first class service. Returning her concentration on her form, she had a hard time restraining a blush on her cheeks when she saw the question 'host preference: man, woman'. She was so taking the man…

"Here," Lisbon said, handing back the filled papers with an ID. Betty checked something on her computer, collected the money and gave her a black and red membership card.

"I just need a signature here please…now if you allow me, I will call a host for you" she took the phone in her hand and dialled a number: "Betty here! Is Will free right now? Yes, a new customer. So is he…oh really?" a frown appeared on her face. "That's weird. All right then…of course, no problem. Thank you sweetie." She hung up and smiled again at the woman: "Someone will soon be there; could you please wait a few moments?"

Lisbon forced a smile and sat back on the couch, wishing this was already over.

 **Flashback**

" _Agent Lisbon, we have a new case."_

 _The brunette stood up as her boss, a black lady named Madeline Hightower, entered with a file in her hands. She had that expression - she so often read on her former boss's face- meaning this was not going to be a piece of cake. Great, she thought inwardly. She hadn't been transferred for more than three days and already a big case on their hand. But then, this was the job and she hadn't been promoted senior agent for nothing._

" _A man in his early thirties had been found early this morning, lying in a backstreet of a supermarket," Hightower blurted immediately, letting the file fall open on the senior agent's desk. "Paul Fricke, a former employee in a well-known Private Club in town. The case was given to Agent Hayce but we need your participation."_

" _How can I help?" she asked, wondering what she could do. After all, she heard Hayce had a reasonable rate of arrests and certainly did not need her for his investigations. The man was a bit of a sexist and –for what she understood the first time she met him- a bit pissed she, a female, had gained her title much earlier than he did._

" _We need an agent undercover to infiltrate the Host Club as a new member and interrogate some staff discreetly. You are new around; so not exactly well-known in the neighbourhood. I read in your file you performed a few…a problem, Agent Lisbon?"_

 _The brunette woman realised then she had been frowning and replied as coolly as she could:_

" _This is a murder investigation. Why should we go undercover in a Club of all places for interviews?"_

 _Hightower sighed and pointed the portrait of a woman cut from a piece of newspaper. Because of the black and white format, she couldn't get the colour of her hair or eyes; but according to her thin frame and features, despite the dark eye-patch covering her left eye, she knew without a doubt she must be a stunning woman._

" _Meet Rouge Johnson, the owner of the Red Host Club, Paul Fricke's previous boss. She is suspected of various crimes, going to prostitution to drug dealing and murder; but we never managed to get a grip on her; always slipped between our fingers because of her contacts. She has a long arm and friends in politics Lisbon; and we cannot allow ourselves to show we are officially investigating on her. You will be given a fake ID and credit card. If you don't think you can make it, say it right now."_

 _Lisbon glanced again at the picture of the victim. The man was lying on his back, eyes half-opened and red cuts over his face. The pained expression betrayed the fact he had been likely tortured before being given the last strike. She frowned in wonder. There was something familiar about the position of the corpse and its apparent wounds, but she brushed the thought away. Hightower was still staring at her when she raised her head and put the picture back in place._

" _I'm on it."_

 **Flashback**

Her thoughts were cut when she felt someone stopping next to her. She raised her head and…her eyes crossed the most stunning blue gaze she had ever seen. Blond curls were falling around a charming face in a mess, like he hadn't arranged his hair for days; contrasting a little with the impeccable three piece suit he was wearing –red vest, white shirt and grey pants. For some reason, she thought the outfit suited the newcomer.

"Good afternoon Miss," he greeted her with a fascinating smile: "My name is Patrick and I will be your Host for the first time. May I have you name?"

Too focused on memorizing the stunning appearance, Lisbon nearly missed his question.

"Uh…Te –Sarah," she replied, almost forgetting about her fake name; "Sarah Jenkins." Her hesitation seemed to go unnoticed as the man nodded solemnly.

"Welcome to the Red Host Club, Miss Sarah," he said with a flashing grin. For a few seconds, Lisbon wondered if he used any ultra white-Colgate for his teeth; she had never met someone with such an immaculate smile. "Would you follow me to the living room or somewhere more private?"

"Private," Lisbon managed to utter without making too much a fool of herself, and added to justify her answer: "I'm…I'm not at ease if…"

Why did he have to be so distracting without even trying? Good-looking people like him should be forbidden, she thought bitterly. Her impulsive response seemed to amuse her host though, and she suddenly felt the urge to slap that Cheshire smile off his face.

"I understand. Please follow me."

He lead her gentlemanly through a bunch of elegant corridors, went up a stair, crossing another host surrounded with two clients –horrendously rich she supposed, according to their clothing and make-up- and stopped in front of a simple door. Patrick unlocked it, pushed it open and invited her to enter first.

The door opened on a small, cosy room. Warm green walls and soft lights invited to a clear intimacy and calm atmosphere. Lisbon found it nicely decorated and adequate to her actual mood. Slightly relaxing, even.

"I figured you had a tiring week, and you needed some quiet and soothing colours. Does the atmosphere suits you?"

She had a hard time suppressing the need to roll her eyes –what a show off!- and instead nodded slowly.

"Why don't you take a seat?" he offered charmingly, turning his back to her to head towards the small bar. "I am positive you will enjoy our lemonade; it's homemade by Ludo, our chef, and you won't find better in the city."

Okay, Lisbon thought. This was enough for playtime. They were isolated, hopefully with no bugs hidden, and he looked like he would be cooperative.

"Patrick," she started, turning into her 'agent' mode "I am not…"

"Take a seat" he repeated more firmly, without looking at her, filling a glass of lemonade. The shift from sweetness to slightly authoritarian unsettled her. "And don't worry; you can skip the whole 'revelation' part, Agent Teresa Lisbon."

When he turned back towards her, his smile had disappeared and his right hand was now holding a black shinny gun. Lisbon straightened and raised slightly her arms at the sight of the weapon. Screw the nice façade; whoever Patrick was, he busted her cover in seconds.

"I have no intention of harming you," he said dryly, eyes narrowing at her. "But I am curious. What are you doing here?"

Lisbon breathed deeply. One glance was enough to inform her that she was not facing any gullible guy. Patrick…whatever his last name, was smart. She kept her cool nevertheless. Maybe there was some hope she could patch up some broken pieces.

"I registered as a member of this club Patrick," she said coolly. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"A few agents registered in the past," he replied pleasantly. "But none of them felt the necessity of changing their names."

Lisbon managed to "blush in embarrassment" convincingly.

"Well maybe I was ashamed of trying this kind of place and made a fake ID. It's not exactly hard for me to do. And I did tell you I was uncomfortable."

Contrary to what she thought, he chuckled amusingly.

"Of course…with your body language screaming 'I want to get out of here'? And no-one asks for a private room before having met the rest of the crew, that's our number one rule that you _should_ have noted if you had read the regulations…showing that you were indeed interested. But you were too fast and didn't want to waste time figuring if I was a safe bet or not," he snorted and shook his head: "You people make me laugh sometimes…too impatient. You managed to fool Betty, but you won't go pass me. Now," he added on a colder tone, stepping slightly closer, still aiming at her, "sit down and tell me why you are here."

The agent reluctantly settled on the couch; he was too far for her to attempt a move to disarm him and she disliked the glint in his eyes. He knew he was in control here. He knew it, and she already hated him for it. Patrick took a seat in front of her in another sofa, not letting her out of his eyesight, and waited, elbows resting on his knees.

"I'm waiting Agent Lisbon."

"What are you going to do to me anyway?" she asked as self-confidently as she could. "I am a police officer."

Patrick shrugged.

"I could bring up assault I suppose? Despite your coolness, I can see you are the hot tempered kind and the lovely agent Hightower will not have your back if you do a mistake, since you are newly transferred. So, why are you here?"

Lisbon sighed and shook her head. Well, this was not exactly the kind of interrogation she was hoping for but in the end it _was_ about the same result.

"Do you know a man named Paul Fricke? Mid-thirties, dark hair…"

Patrick frowned and tilted his head on the side, thinking. If she wasn't under the threat of a gun and on a job, Lisbon would have indulged herself a little bit of checking-out. Not that she was into younger men, but which sane woman would deny he was very, very attractive?

"Paul Fricke…I haven't heard that name for about six months. He used to work here. Why? He has problems?"

"He was found dead this morning."

The blond man stood silent for a few moments. A series of emotions passed on his features, but too fast for her to be able to read them. The only one remaining in the end was coldness and indifference.

"I see," he simply stated. "Well I can't say I am exactly sad about this. He left the business for some woman out there. You see," he added, lowering his head, but still holding the gun. "The 'Red Host Club' is like a second house. Mr Fricke…you could say he was…the black lamb. No-one appreciates when a member walks out. But no-one kills a traitor either; we don't need that kind of publicity around. So the house's answer is 'no, we do not regret his death but we did not do it'. Now ma'am," he added, standing up without leaving her out of the weapon's aim, "I will ask you to get out of here and never come back if you don't want troubles…this is my first and last warning."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't reply. She stood up in turn, picked up her handbag and left, but not before throwing a last glare at him. On her way out, she ignored the confused look of Betty and bumped in a man walking out of a room on her way out but couldn't care less. All she wanted right now was jumping into a cab, be back to her office within the hour and forget about this humiliation ASAP.

* * *

 **FYI: Host Clubs do exist in Japan, so I'm not inventing much. I'm not sure if they've made their way in other countries yet...**

 **The victim Paul Fricke was a pick up artist from 1x14, Crimson Casanova.**

 **Till next time :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Guest:** Hee, I liked that character too, hence why I'm using him...even if I killed him off lol. Thanks :)

 **Nathalie:** Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy the rest :)

 **Read and enjoy! :D**

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **2.**

Hightower was classing papers on her desk when Lisbon entered her office. When she saw her, the black woman glanced at her watch before nodding at her to sit down.

"You were back quick," she accused immediately.

Lisbon repressed the urge to roll her eyes and replied with as much self-control as she could:

"Everything went fine until the host I was with busted my cover. I don't know how he recognised me as a cop before even meeting me… I still asked a few questions, but I didn't get anything useful."

The black women frowned and asked calmly:

"Which host did you get?"

"The one named Patrick."

Hightower shook her head in exasperation, hitting slightly her desk in annoyance.

"Damn, from all of them…I apologize, Agent Lisbon. This one is very…particular."

She pulled a file from her drawer and let it fall on the desk, opening it. The brunette immediately recognised a profile, as well as the solemn picture of the young man was staring expressionless at her.

"Patrick Jane, age 23, former carnie. His father was arrested for conning a millionaire when he was fifteen and since then he has a thing against officers of the law. Two years ago, he got hired by Miss Johnson as a host in her club," she muttered. "He had been her right hand and head of security since then. He busted all our undercover agents at once. I was hoping he didn't have time to figure you out and let another one take care of you. I know the others are slightly more cooperative."

Lisbon nodded and was dismissed on these words.

Being at the head of the Serious Crime Unit allowed Lisbon to have two subordinates, and since the former leader had been shot, leaving his colleagues alone, she _inherited_ of them. It didn't bother her though. Agent Kimball Cho, an Asian man, was very calm and stoic agent. He was also very competent in interrogating people –she had seen him in action the previous day. The second one, Grace Van Pelt, a beautiful redhead, was an ace with computers. After a short introduction at her arrival, she figured it would be easy to work with them. Despite Cho wearing in permanence a poker face and Van Pelt being a tidy bit too eager to please, they were very receptive with her orders and hadn't try to counter or test her. Yet.

"Hi boss," Van Pelt was the first one to see her and greeted her with a brief smile. "How did the uncover mission go?"

The woman frowned back as an answer. The redhead bit her lower lip and plunged back into her computer.

"Cho will be back soon," she added. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'll be in my office if you need me. I still have a few papers to fill."

Van Pelt smiled at her again and went back to whatever she was doing. The older woman headed to her office, closed the door and sighed. Hightower wasn't the only one puzzled by Patrick's quick recognition. She had only arrived three days ago; how could he have known she was a cop? Half of the people here still glanced quickly at her before remembering she was newly transferred. Lisbon didn't believe his explanation about not reading the regulation as a first hint. She was sure that a few clients had done that mistake too, and they hadn't been suspected. Patrick had known she was an agent the moment he saw her. So he must have seen her elsewhere…but where?

Sighing in resignation, she checked her pockets to take back her cell phone and put her jacket on the chair. Halfway searching for her electronic device though, her fingers encountered an unexpected object. A paper. Intrigued, Lisbon pulled it out and glanced at it. White colour, very good quality, a logo –white smiley- on the bottom left made her frown. It was from the Red Host club, but she didn't remember putting anything in her pocket there…When she returned it though…A black, hasty note was scribed behind.

' _11pm 2night front of fountain Washingtn Av'_

Blinked.

Who could have…she had no physical contact with anyone –except the guy she bumped in walking out- but even then, that wasn't enough time to slip a paper in her pocket without her feeling it. The petite woman absentmindedly let her jacket fall on the back of her chair and sat down, opening the 'Paul Fricke' file Hightower had let her to overlook the previous day. The man had barely started a job in a small café not so far from his apartment. His financial situation didn't look extraordinary, but given the small salary and the obvious lack of spending, he was working hard to get out of his miseries. Lisbon bit her lower lip and glanced at the card again. Her mind was made up, and the agent lighted her computer for a google search. Whoever wrote this might have information about this case…and even this ended up being a hoax, well she couldn't say she hadn't tried.

 **-AH-**

It was a nice place. Really, a nice place. The fountain was actually pretty; a discreet sculpture posed on the top of a column, with water falling in cascade from it…It could have been enjoyable _if it wasn't so F-ing cold out there!_ Lisbon thought, jumping on her feet and trying not to look too impatient. It was 11.05 pm at her watch and she swore if no-one showed up in the next 30 seconds she was gone. It was such a stupid idea. Whoever had noted that probably wanted to have a good laugh, watching her standing there late and in vain. Lisbon shook her head, cursing herself for being so credulous when…

"Good evening ma'am," a masculine voice came from behind. The petite agent jumped out of her skin and turned towards the intruder. Somehow, she was not so surprised to see Patrick Jane standing there with a huge grin, apparently proud of himself. Lisbon closed her eyes and counted to three to cool down and opened them again to glare at him pointedly.

"What are you…"

"I felt like going out tonight," he said casually. "Shall we take a walk?"

Recognizing the serious glint in his eyes despite the teasing tone, she merely nodded and followed him. A few minutes passed in silence before she decided the lack of conversation had lasted long enough.

"Why did you want to see me?"

The young man didn't stop walking and didn't look at her, but she clearly heard him say:

"You are investigating on Paul's death, that's what you said right?"

Lisbon immediately noted the use of the victim's first name and nodded. It was a half-truth, since she had acted in the hope of having a lead.

"You have something to say?" he nodded. "Why didn't you call the office then?"

The blond man snorted.

"I hate cops. I don't want to do anything with them."

"Then why call me?" she asked again, a genuine surprise in her voice. "I am a cop too."

"You're new around. I had a hunch we could help each other out. You help me get what I want, I help you get what you want…you know how those details works better than I do. It's called a 'compromise'."

"I still don't see your point. Am I different than other 'cops'? I'm new and so what?"

A knowing smile filled with mysteries replaced his grimace. Somehow, that expression reminded her something; but she couldn't put the finger on what exactly. Maybe she had come across him previously, but just forgot. She pushed the thought aside and, after a few seconds of thinking, decided to be honest with him:

"I am not exactly on Paul Fricke's case. Agent Hayce is."

The young man's face fell a little and she suddenly wondered if it had been a wise move.

"Too bad," he muttered, then shrugged. "Oh well, I guess I'll have to deal with it. Can you pass a message to… _Agent Hayce_ for me? Without telling him I told you this?"

"Depends on what you have to say."

He didn't reply immediately. Raindrops started to fall and Lisbon suddenly cursed her lack of umbrella. She just hoped his 'confession' wouldn't last too long; she didn't need to catch a cold now…

"I don't want this to fall into unwanted ears and I know I'm being watched." He paused and added gentler: "Why don't we go to your place?"

 **-AH-**

It was pouring rain when they eventually arrived at her apartment. Lisbon pushed the door open and stormed in, leaving to Patrick the assignment to close it behind. Her coat was soaked and she could feel humidity gaining her T-shirt and skin. She'd definitively need to change if she didn't want to catch a cold.

"May I use your bathroom please?" his voice interrupted her thoughts. "I think I need towel, for my hair."

Lisbon nodded and pointed the end of the corridor.

"Go ahead; it's right in the corner. And put your coat on the hanger there. It will dry easier."

He thanked her and did what was asked. After locking the door, Lisbon headed in her bedroom. She pulled off her shirt and tee, threw them on the ground and opened the closet, looking for something dry, comfortable yet still professional. She was welcoming a potential witness giving a statement for God's sake! And even though he was…extremely cute –she wouldn't deny it, especially with his wet hair and the raindrops falling over his face…

Clearing her throat disapprovingly at her own mind, she changed pants and was about to put a new top on when she realised she wasn't alone anymore. Jane was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and wearing an amused smirk on his face. Lisbon was not as pleased. She glowered at him, covering her chest with her clean tee and barked angrily:

"What do you think you are doing Mr Jane?"

The young man didn't have the decency to look away. The widening grin on his face only made her angrier.

"Enjoying the view."

"Oh really?" she growled back, wishing she had her cuffs nearby. That was the most obsolete breaking of privacy! Why had she brought him to her place again? Damn her cop-conscience.

"Well the door was opened; I just saw your frame and stopped to watch. Can't blame me, you are a gorgeous woman, agent Lisbon. You should have closed the door if you didn't want me to check you out."

His eyes were scanning her upper body top to bottom lecherously and Lisbon felt her fingers itching for her firearm. Wasn't he too young to ogle older women like that?

"Never too young and never too old Miss Lisbon," he added, as if reading her mind. "And when the lady is pretty, who am I to look away?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes; no wonder why that… _kid_ worked in the Red Host Club. It was the right place for perverted minds.

"Go in the living room now," she ordered with a threatening tone.

"Yes ma'am," he replied with a huge grin.

Once she was done changing –this time closing attentively behind her- they settled in her living room. Lisbon had her notepad and a pen, and the young man sat in a comfortable one-seat sofa. The atmosphere was slightly awkward, for she was certain he had certainly never been in a living room for interrogation. And truth be told, neither had she. Patrick shifted uncomfortably on his couch and confessed:

"I'm not sure where to start with."

"Then I'm going to ask you a few questions," she replied. "If you feel more comfortable like this."

Patrick shrugged.

"Shoot. I will answer every question as long as you don't try to make me say things I am not willing to say, like your boss lady did."

She had a thought of sympathy for Hightower, imagining them both stuck in an interrogation room. Biting back a smirk, she slipped in 'professional' mode and started:

"What was your relationship with the victim?"

The exact same question had been asked a few hours prior. And the reaction was completely different. This time, his smile fell and traces of pain appeared in his blue eyes and she knew he was being truthful. If her experience taught her something, it was that a man never lied when he looked the way Patrick Jane looked right now.

"Paul was…not exactly a friend –more like a troublesome sibling for me. He and I were in sort of a competition; since we were the most popular hosts of the house…like who would attract the most clients and keep them the longest. He was also one of the 'night services'…"

"Night services?" Lisbon repeated, frowning. "What exactly do you mean?"

Jane smirked bitterly.

"You must have read Red John's file right? Then you'd know she…"

"Sorry I'm interrupting again," the agent cut "Who is Red John?"

The blond man chuckled this time, amused by her question.

"It's out boss's nickname. Rouge Johnson, Red John…'Rouge' means 'red' in French."

"Okay." It was still a weird nickname she thought before returning her attention back on the young man. "I'm sorry, please go on."

"No problem…you must have read her file, and you must have heard about the rumours on her dealing with prostitution, drug dealings and stuff. Well they are all true. Red John doesn't do firearms but she has quite the reputation for the two others in the underworld."

"And how do you know that? Because you are her right hand?"

The young man shrugged again.

"They _call_ me like that, but she doesn't trust me as much as you people seem to believe. Just like any 'day' employee, she kicks me out after eleven o'clock and welcomes Dumar to replace me. I'm far from being stupid agent Lisbon. I know what she's hiding in her closet. I could get every paper proving her responsibility in this mess if I wanted to."

Lisbon stared at him in surprise.

"Why haven't you brought them to the police? You know they had been trying to pin her for a while."

His reply was a dry snort.

" _Pin_ her? Please, spare me the 'goody-cop' discourse. She has allies within the police _including_ CBI who clean her mess. If I bring back those papers, I know where they will end. In a garbage can –if they aren't burned. And even so, she has extremely good lawyers. Sneaky ones, but very good at their job. No," he added, as if talking to himself "If you want to pin her so badly, you have to catch her on the act. Anyway, where was I already? Ah yeah, day and night service. Well to put it short, the night service is basically all the gigolo and whores she has under command and her night clients are the people asking for these particular…benefits for the hosts. They occur in the basement of the club, where you get access with a key only Miss Johnson and Dumar owns. He is extremely loyal to her, so no use to try to get it by him," he added, as the thought crossed her mind.

Lisbon noted down a few things before going on:

"And what is your relationship with Miss Johnson?"

"Purely professional," he replied immediately. "More like…a watchdog. I supervise the staff for her, I speak to officers in her name, I make sure our employees respect the rules and check the client's background…sometimes play the host when there's a missing person…I don't see her much though, only at meetings in the evening, sometimes morning."

"Okay," Lisbon muttered, noting down the few information. "You never saw her outside of work?"

Her question, for some reasons, made him grin amusingly.

"Are you hinting I had a sexual relationship with my current boss, Agent Lisbon?"

The cute teasing smile almost made her blush. Thankfully, she wasn't a cop for nothing and managed to limit the damages by restraining the rush of adrenaline over her cheeks. No wonder why he had been hired to be a 'host' and was successful in his job. Despite being annoying, he had a very handsome face.

"Just answer the question Mr Jane," she replied dryly.

He sighed –was that disappointment?- and said:

"No, I am not currently sleeping with my boss, Miss Rouge Johnson, for three reasons. One, I'm not fond of redheads; two, she knows better than to sleep with me -I'd make her life hellish," he grinned amusingly. "And last but not least, she doesn't like men."

As he spoke, his gaze met hers again. She had the feeling he could read right through her with those hypnotizing blue eyes; and for a moment, she was mesmerized.

"Agent Lisbon?" he broke the charm with a wider grin, as if knowing exactly what he had done to her. She was not into younger men, she repeated herself. Never been and will never be.

"So Miss Johnson doesn't like men," she repeated tentatively, reporting her attention to her notebook.

"Nope she doesn't," he repeated cheerfully. "And for the record, Betty, the girl at the front desk, she's her current lover. Poor girl didn't have a brilliant life. She was just another street kid before Miss Johnson picked her there…which brings me to something else I wanted to say; Miss Johnson was not in town last night. She was supposed to participate to a Star Wars forum in LA. But I also know she left Dumar behind to manage the night services and he was missing a few hours. I heard Betty talking in the bathroom with a colleague."

"Are you hinting Dumar might have walked out to kill Paul Fricke?" _and more important_ she added to herself _what was he doing in the ladies room?_

"I am not hinting. I am pretty sure he did it. That is how it goes when a former employee tries to get the upper hand on her. I'm sure Paul had information on Red John and wanted to make a deal with her. Idiot," the young man grumbled. "He should have known she doesn't do deals…but then, that can be just a coincidence. And again, for the record, there is something called 'pipes' in the wall connecting the men's room and the ladies; I wasn't in there, I was just eavesdropping," he added with a teasing grin.

 _Never mind_ she thought, seriously wondering if he was psychic or something.

"There are no such things as psychics," he added, as if reading her mind again. "I am just extremely observant."

Lisbon threw him a glare and went on dryly:

"And what were the relationship between the victim and Mrs Johnson?"

Jane's face tensed a bit.

"Something you must understand in this business agent Lisbon, is that Paul was a playboy. He broke quite a few women's heart and Red John wasn't pleased. She still kept him because he was popular _and_ in the night service, but it was a matter of time before she fired him. She didn't like it when he stepped out of the business first. I told you earlier he found some woman out there and I didn't get much news from then. It was true. He really dropped the job for her."

Lisbon frowned hearing his words. She didn't remember the file saying anything about the victim having a girlfriend or the picture of a woman in his wallet, and the others witnesses she had interviewed didn't seem to know about a potential lover or such. She pushed the thought aside and went on:

"There were no hard feelings between you? I mean, you must have envied him…being able to 'walk away'? You don't seem to like your job either."

She knew she was half-right when she saw his smirk form a thin line. His eyes were rather sad though, or holding something like…guilt.

"I was envious he could walk away, but not for the same reasons," he replied slowly. "A bit jealous perhaps, but I would have been extremely hypocritical to try to prevent him from leaving. I kicked him out of the house, figuratively speaking. Whoever his girlfriend was, I knew she loved him. Paul wasn't exactly well-off and his job made his previous girlfriends walk away…I pushed him to quit for her."

"So you have no idea who this woman could be?"

"I only know she had…blond or brownish hair. I might have seen them together in town once, but I don't remember much, sorry. I was curious, but it was safer for him not to spill too much on his woman. Whatever you say in the club, the staff will know it in the five following hours. And the house' politic is very strict on not bringing the other half at the club, or affairs between employees. No need for jealousy demonstrations and stuff."

Lisbon nodded understandingly. It seemed every company held the word on the no-dating policy…though it was extremely understandable here.

"Any more questions? Because I think I've done my job there," he added pleasantly.

"Any other people that might have hold a grunge against him?"

"Aside from the boyfriends and husbands of the women he seduced –and that's some list- or the women themselves? Don't think so. And if you want the list of clients, you'll need a warrant. I have already came here despite good sense –and because Red John gains more by keeping me alive- I am not willing to get into more trouble."

Lisbon sighed a little bit disappointed. She didn't want to pressure him more since she couldn't think of anything else to ask.

"All right, I'll see what I can do with this. Thank you for your cooperation Mr Jane."

"Very welcome," he replied pleasantly. "As long as you catch Paul's murder, I'll help you as much as I can."

The interview was over, and Lisbon had to confess she was in a hurry to see him leave. She wanted to take a shower and go to bed quick. Tomorrow was promising to be a long, busy day. Patrick stood up, grabbed his coat and headed toward the door. For good measure, Lisbon asked if he wanted a taxi. He declined the offer politely.

"And Miss Lisbon," he added "Don't be ashamed, you are truly gorgeous."

One last glare and he was hurrying down the staircase. She closed her door, let her back rest against the door and sighed. Tiredly. For some reasons, interviewing Jane had been extremely exhausting. In fact, she didn't remember an interview being so tiring since her rookie days, when she didn't have the experience she had yet and still learning the ropes to figure out the body language of various suspects. This time, he was the one reading her and she wondered if he hadn't been the interrogator, answering but judging her reactions.

And most of all, she didn't like the way his eyes had lingered over her when he caught her changing in her bedroom. Or maybe, if Lisbon was more honest with herself, didn't like the effect they had on _her_. When she had caught him staring at her in her bedroom, some small part had been flattered by his appreciative glance, and she didn't like it. No, she didn't like it one bit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Guest:** Chef Ludo is just background, so you won't hear much of him later on...but he does live! It was a bit mean for Paul and Katie from me but unfortunately at the time I couldn't think of a better couple to fit the situation ^^"

 **Nathalie:** Thank you! :D

 **As some might wonder, Jane is turning 24 and Lisbon 33. There's a 9 years gap between the two.**

 **Thanks to everyone for their reviews/following etc :D!**

 **Read and enjoy! :D**

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **3.**

Patrick Jane pushed the door of his apartment open and dumped his jacket near the entrance. He turned on the light and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Agile fingers dialled a familiar number and he pressed the button 'call'. His speaker picked up at the second ring.

" _What took you so long Mr Jane?"_ the female voice asked dryly. _"You were supposed to call me ages ago."_

The blond man bit back a snort and replied as pleasantly as he could:

"I'm sorry ma'am, faking to speak open-heartedly to an agent is tricky."

He could only imagine the annoyed frown on her face. Red John didn't like the fact the interview had taken longer than she thought.

" _Did you tell her what you know?"_

"Of course I did ma'am," he replied cheerfully. "I wouldn't be a good citizen if I hid anything from the authorities. You were out of town for the night, had many witnesses to confirm it and Mr Fricke was a playboy. You both argued a lot and blahblahblah…her doubts are on Dumar for the moment, but she will soon find herself in a dead end if you play the right cards. Change the surveillance cameras and make sure he appears on the video at the time of the murder. I suppose she will suspect me afterwards, but with no solid proof, she won't be able to dig further."

" _Don't play smart Mr Jane,"_ she shot back angrily. _"I have enough problems lately with a few clients; a murder scandal is the very last thing this house needs; that's why I ordered you to meet Agent Lisbon. She is good at her job, so don't underestimate her. I don't want her to put her nose in my files."_

"Aw, Miss Johnson, do you have something to hide?" he replied teasingly. There was a tensed silence over the phone. "Please ma'am, no need to cover up your dirty business from me, I was hired for a reason."

" _If you know, then take care of it. I don't want the police sniffing in my stuff right now. You_ were _hired for a reason, Mr Jane."_

And she hung up. Patrick smirked at the phone while he shut it. She was getting nervous. He let it rest on the table and headed towards his small bathroom. Above the wash-stank, a mirror reflected his amused smile. He took it off its support and picked the brown board hidden there, on which newspaper articles have been pinned. Each mentioned various dead police agents and cold cases. Only two pictures were in there. One of Rouge Johnson, and the other…

"How long are you going to keep staring at them?"

Patrick jumped in surprise and turned towards the door. A woman was standing in the threshold, holding a lightened cigarette in her left hands. He frowned in puzzlement. He hadn't smelt her favourite brand when he walked through the door. Perhaps he had been too focused on his phone call.

"Oh, hi. How did you get in?"

"I rang three times, you didn't answer," she replied coolly, shrugging. "Then I noted the wall was thinner on the right side. You let your double key between the panels on the left. You'll have to be smarter next time if you don't want me in."

The blond man winced at her dry tone.

"Do I feel bad vibes aimed at me?"

"Someone forgot to mention they would come late. I've been waiting for almost two hours now, so yeah, I am sending a whole bunch of bad vibes right now."

Patrick chuckled and returned his attention to the large board. One of the two coloured picture represented Rouge Johnson, the other one showed a range of half a dozen of people smiling. Most of them had their head circled, and crossed with a red mark.

"I'm sorry dear, I'll be there in a minute. I just needed to change a small detail…"

She nodded and pulled a few times on her cigarette to finish it. He picked up a pen from his pocket and circled one of the untouched heads. A woman, smiling uneasily at the photographer. The newcomer took a step closer and frowned at the modification.

"You met her? I mean, she's a cop around here now?"

Patrick nodded, putting back the top on the pencil and slipping it gently at its rightful place.

"Yup. Meet newly transferred, Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon. She might come to your workplace to ask a few questions on Paul."

The woman's frown deepened.

"I thought it was that agent…Hayesh or something in charge…he was there yesterday."

"Oh he is, but not for long," Patrick assured her. "He doesn't give a damn about a poor waiter murdered in the back street. He will blame some narcotic kids hanging around who wanted to have some fun. But she," he added, pointing his finger on the newly circled agent. " _She_ will dig deeper. She will come back to ask you a few questions."

"So should I tell her about Katie?"

Patrick hesitated before whispering:

"No. I need to know her more before trusting her with this kind of information. And if Lisbon reveals herself of no use and dies like the others, I'm not putting your safety at risk."

The woman sighed annoyingly.

"I told you not to worry, I'll help you in your revenge as long as it doesn't endanger Matthew's life; it's the deal and you paid for my services. So far you held to your word; the other cops disappeared but you always managed to cover our tracks. So tell me, if she comes around, what am I supposed to do?"

The young man glanced at the picture, where younger Teresa Lisbon was staring back at him.

"Tell her what you told Hayce…and add whatever insignificant detail you can think of. Don't let her think you know more though. If you look like you do, it might alert the mole at the CBI. I don't want Matthew or you in danger. Red John doesn't like Lisbon, and even though the lady is reliable I am not sure she will let her live long if she becomes too nosy." He paused and glanced at his partner with a glint of hope he hadn't felt in years. "I think she is the perfect candidate to finally arrest her."

The woman smirked amusingly and a bit sadly.

"And you are a fool Patrick. That's why I can't leave you do this alone. Now…" her fingers brushed his mouth before lingering over his half-buttoned shirt. "You look like you had a stressful day; you need some distraction…Why don't we focus on something more… _pleasant_?"

At her words, he lowered his face and captured forcefully his partner's mouth. She didn't let him take control and responded harshly. Her whole body pressed against his, triggering a low appreciative groan form his throat.

"Seems like you're right dear," he replied huskily. "These worries can wait."

"And you are too talkative," she retorted. "Can't you shut up till we're done?"

"Deal."

 **-AH-**

When Lisbon woke up the next day, she just wanted to shut her alarm, call in sick and return to sleep. She had finished transcribing the interview later than she thought, distracted by the image of two sharp blue eyes. So cursing the young man, she jumped in her shoes and headed towards her door, firmly decided to give it to Agent Hayce and put an end to her participation in this investigation. Somehow, she just _knew_ if she went deeper, she would meet Patrick Jane again and the woman did not trust him one bit. If only for the obvious interest he showed for her body. He was a ladies' man and a perverted one, nothing more, nothing less.

But her certitudes were shattered when she entered the man's office. The bald man kept glaring at her from the get-go, even when she explained the reasons of her presence there. Heck, she knew he didn't like her because of his macho attitude but still… When he rejected her report, she felt a hint of anger budding in her chest.

"I'm bringing something that could perhaps help you in your investigation, and you're not even _bothering_ to listen to it?"

"I won't need it," he snorted dryly and handed her a thick file. Without understanding much of it, she took it and glanced at the name tagged on it. Paul Fricke. Lisbon glanced at the agent again, not sure she understood what that meant.

"I won't need that report because thanks to you, I'm not on the case anymore. You are in charge, Agent Lisbon."

"B…but I thought you were the one on the case?" she babbled, slightly off-guard. The half-bald man snorted.

"Go tell that to Hightower. She's the one who ordered the transfer of the case. Can't believe she asked _you_ of all people on it," he snorted, walking away. "You're not even capable of doing a proper undercover job."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. Her fingers clenched on the file as she did a huge effort in keeping her cool. It wasn't exactly her fault she had been busted! Well…okay perhaps the fact she didn't look exactly enthusiastic gave her a little away according to Patrick. But then Hightower didn't seem to blame her on that detail.

"Got something to ask Agent Lisbon?" he snapped angrily. "If not get out of my office!"

The petite woman glared at him in turn and went out. Once in the corridor, she stopped and stared at the file once again. Why had she been transferred on this one? As she passed by her office, Van Pelt immediately noted her change of mood. When Lisbon had first met her, she knew immediately at the way she introduced herself that the redhead was very sensible about people's feelings. As much as a good asset it could be during an investigation, the petite agent did not like the fact she could also read her.

"Something wrong boss?"

Lisbon breathed in deeply and hurried towards her boss's office. Van Pelt's question would be answered soon enough if what Hayce said was true. She knocked on the door and pushed it opened without waiting for an answer. From the outside, the black woman was not on the phone and alone. Hightower raised her head as soon as she entered the room. She didn't seemed surprise by her arrival, as if expecting such behaviour. If she was really waiting for her, then Lisbon blurted out her point:

"Why did I get Fricke's case?"

The black woman raised her brows, as if Lisbon was asking something insane.

"Are you contesting my decision?"

The petite agent blinked and added:

"No, I just mean…why the sudden change?"

"Because I want to test you agent Lisbon. I know agent Hayce is good at his job, but he is not the guy we need to catch Rouge Johnson. He had tried before and he failed thrice. His is becoming too bitter to keep this his personal feelings are mixing with this case. And I suspect him to be not quite motivated by this anymore."

"He looked pretty angry to me ma'am," Lisbon pointed out. Hightower sighed and shook her head.

"I am not surprised. Agent Hayce is…quickly annoyed when something goes against his expectations. And he had grown lazy. Consider this like…a chance to prove your worth. The Red Host Club will expect you to continue you research anyway."

The brunette's lips tightened in a thin line. She didn't like her boss's decision, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it. Without any more protests, she waited until the black woman dismissed her to get out and announce the news to her colleagues.

- **AH** -

Lisbon snapped the files on her desk closed and rubbed her temples, extremely annoyed.

Three days had passed since she inherited of the Paul Fricke's case, and she had the feeling she was still at point one. Hayce's reports had been no use to her so far, and even though she had spent the last three days trying to dig around, she couldn't find any possible lead.

In the bar he worked at, the waitresses didn't seem to know much about him; none reported a strange or paranoid behaviour from his part or a possible difference. One of them caught her attention though; after a quick questioning, she had confessed that Paul had to leave earlier the night of his death, and that she agreed to cover him at the time. Why? To help him keep his wages intact. She admitted having a crush on him but denied killing him. Something about her nagged Lisbon, but since she couldn't put the finger on what, she let her go.

There was still Patrick Jane's interview, but without a warrant she could not do much. And Hightower was right. As soon as she requested one, some higher-up irrupted in her office, claiming Rouge Johnson had nothing to do with the case, and that she'd rather focus on some more important cases.

Instead of making her back up, that visit gave her the extra excuse she needed to continue her research. It wasn't the first time in her career than some political man tried to impress her. Her former mentor, when she was still a rookie, didn't know if he liked or disliked the fact she never gave up. Sometimes, it did more bad than good. And Lisbon had learnt that to her expense…

"Boss?"

Cho's voice took her out of her daydreaming, and she blinked to get her concentration back. One glance at him let him know he had her full attention now.

"I have a call on line 3. Some guy who asked for the agent in charge of Fricke's case."

"Transfer," she replied, sighing. Perhaps this would change her mind a little. She just hoped it wouldn't be a certain blond man. After the interview, Jane hadn't tried to contact her and get any information about the progress of the investigation, like she had expected him to. During their talk, he seemed genuinely upset with the man's death. Unless he had tricked her somehow, or he had a mole somewhere to keep him informed…

Her phone rang. Cho's transfer, she remembered before picking up.

"Agent Lisbon, CBI."

No-one replied, but she could hear someone breathing in the phone through the speaker. Lisbon waited a few seconds, then tried again:

"Did you ask for the agent in charge…"

" _It's about Paul's death,"_ a man's voice cut her abruptly. " _But I can't go to the police or she'll kill me. I swear she will ma'am."_

Lisbon breathed in and out. Okay, another meet-me-outside confession then. She just hoped it wasn't another Jane-in-training.

"Who are you?"

" _I…I can't tell. I don't want the mole to get my name."_

So there was really someone working for Rouge Johnson at the CBI? Lisbon wondered, noting down that thought.

"All right. Where would you like to meet?" she asked anyway.

There was a hesitation from the man's part she did not miss, and he seemed to be talking to himself or someone. That alerted her immediately. If he wasn't alone, who was next to him? Another witness? Or someone wanting to throw false indications for the investigation?

" _Un…somewhere like…the old warehouse, near the port. Today at…_ " he mumbled something, and she could head papers being checked. _"Around 5pm is okay? No-one will wonder where I go after that time…I can't leave my workplace before and I want this done quick. And I need you to be alone._ "

Lisbon pondered her options. She could, once again, head to the place and take the risk of being led by a false lead. Or even worst, get attacked if she really went alone. Despite being very good at tackling bigger guys, if whoever was on the phone prepared an attack carefully, she had good reasons to be worried.

"I will bring one of my colleagues," she said, testing the man's good will.

" _No,_ " he replied immediately. _"Only you or I won't show up. Good-bye Agent."_

The line went dead and she reluctantly put the phone down. Lisbon intertwined her fingers, biting her lower lip, determined to think a little. The options were clear and simple: she could go alone like requested and get information, a false alarm or a 'warning'; or accompanied and there was a risk her informant didn't show up; or again not go at all. The petite agent sighed annoyingly. Of course she wanted to solve this case and put a murderer behind bars; but she wasn't stupid either.

When she went to Jane's rendezvous, she knew it would be a public place, where she could call for help just in case. An abandoned warehouse near the port…there was a great chance this was a trap. Or this was someone who didn't want to get busted. Jeez, was Rouge Johnson such a pain in the…

"Boss?" this time, Van Pelt came to interrupt her stream of thoughts. "Is this a bad moment?" she added when Lisbon stared at her expressionlessly.

"No, it's fine. Do you have something?" she asked when she spotted the thick file in the redhead's hands.

"I think you should take a look at this" the ace-computer agent said, putting the folder on her desk carefully. "I did a bit of digging around Rouge Johnson's past and found this…they are all cases related to her, or in which her name is mentioned at least once."

Lisbon couldn't help but whistle at the sight.

"Wow, looks like the lady is far guiltier than I thought."

"Most of them are random people, but I noticed something bothersome" she added, opening the file and pulling out a list of half a dozen names. "These agents all worked on the Red John case and died in a short amount of time. It seemed a bit weird, so I dug a bit further and found out they have one common thing…"

"They all followed the same retreat from the same program under Virgil Minelli's command" Lisbon went on for her. Van Pelt blinked in confusion:

"How did you know?"

Lisbon bit her lower lip as she surveyed the list she had been given. Her heart skipping a few beat as a bad feeling crept inside her. She knew all of them. She had been following these teambuilding programs too for a while.

"You said they are all dead, is that right?"

The redhead nodded.

"Yeah. Last one was Rogers Patterson, two months ago. He was working in another branch around San Francisco but he was killed by a bullet shot between his two eyes. They found out later he was secretly trying to bust Rouge Johnson, but no-one investigated in that direction." Her eyes suddenly turned worried. "Be careful boss. I'm not sure why they all came to deal with her case, but…"

Lisbon sighed and shook her head to herself. Specific colleagues she personally knew were found dead one after the other working on that case. It was weird. If the phone call was a trap…she couldn't go alone. A quick glance at her watch informed her it was already two in the afternoon…

"Van Pelt," she suddenly spoke up. "Warn Cho; I am going to meet someone, but I think I will need your backup."


	4. Chapter 4

**Shorter chapter, but things happen so…**

 **Thanks for the reviews! :D**

* * *

 **The Agent and The Host**

 **4.**

The warehouse was pretty deserted indeed, and quite an old building, Lisbon thought when she parked around the corner. Before stepping out of the car, she checked once again the microphone attached inside her vest and the barely noticeable earphone in her ear.

"You hear me all right Van Pelt?" she asked. Less than a mile away, she knew a black van was waiting to intervene at any moment.

" _Yes boss. Do you?_ " the redhead replied immediately.

"I do. It's close to 5; I'm going out now" she added, opening the door and walking away from the SUV. Van Pelt's response was perfectly intelligible even outside.

Lisbon had to restrain a sigh of relief. She had met unknown contacts before, alone and in more dangerous places. But for some reason, this particular one made her nervous. The names on the list weren't random Agents. They were her colleagues and also known as the bests…How could they end up like this?

Lisbon was so lost in her thoughts she almost missed the faint whisper of someone calling her name:

"Agent?"

The woman immediately raised her hand over her holster and turned towards an entrance of the warehouse she hadn't notice, hidden within the shadows. She didn't know what to think when a tall, well-built man dressed with a large jacket showed up, his two hands bare in sign in had no weapon. Lisbon brushed her waist where her firearm was firmly attached at her hip in reassurance and, after taking a deep breath, moved towards the spot.

As she came closer, the petite agent got a neater glance of who he might be. The man was wearing a cap falling over his eyes, a large aviator jacket and a black pair of pants. His muddy baskets, in contrast with his impeccable jeans, told her he must have switched shoes on the way, and was working in a very high-class something that did not allow this kind of shoes. Plus, he must have just been coming out from work…Maybe another Host? She thought half amusingly.

"Are you alone?" he asked, and she recognised the nervousness in his tone. Lisbon also noted he didn't ask who she was…and the frame seemed somehow familiar…

"You work at the Host Club, don't you." It was an affirmation, and he didn't deny it. "What can you tell me?" she asked back as an answer. The tall man stepped out of the corner but remained in the shadows of the building. He was nervous; she could hear it with his irregular breathing and obvious uneasiness in his voice.

"I'm not exactly sure about what to do with this information…but the other day, I saw Mr Dumar –he's some high member of the staff, the outside job right hand of Miss Johnson…he went to the security room and worked on some videos of the camera surveillance. I'm not a light with computers, but I'm not stupid enough to know he trafficked something with the footages. If you ever get a warrant; you better have an ace-computer person in your team…and that's all I have to say."

Lisbon noted these new information, and knew Cho was probably scribing them as well. She was curious over a detail thought.

"Did Mr Jane ask you to contact me?"

At the mention of his name, the tall man froze and stared at her incredulously.

"M…Mr Jane as in Patrick Jane?" she nodded "Hell no! That guy…That guy is completely devoted to Red John! If I wasn't so sure Dumar was the culprit, he would be my first suspect! Why? Did _he_ contact you?"

Lisbon didn't reply and simply stared at him expectantly; wondering what the man could know that would put at doubt Jane's testimony.

"I need to warn you then…A lot of people investigated on Red Jo- I mean Rouge Johnson before, and I guess you saw what happened to them."

Lisbon nodded again and waited patiently for the rest.

"I've noticed something…about one of our guys. One of the managers seemed to be a lot involved with Federal Agents or policemen. I don't know what he was…dealing with them, what he could possibly tell them, but I just know they all ended up dead."

"Do you think that person killed Mr Fricke?" she asked. If the man was right, then whoever he was talking about was responsible –or the killer- of six excellent Agents. And she would gladly cuff him. Or her.

"It was Patrick ma'am. Patrick spent a lot of time with the other agents investigating on Red John. Don't trust his word ma'am please. I don't want any troubles but I don't want to find out…" He sighed. "Too many died already. He is using them, I don't know what for. So if that guy comes to you, just…be careful of him and on top of everything don't _trust_ him. He will stab you in the back…"

The melody of Star Wars resonated though the air. The tall man searched in his jacket for a black mobile and made it mute.

"I need to go ma'am. Sorry I can't tell you more."

Lisbon moved forwards as soon as he disappeared from the corner and barked:

"Hey wait a second…"

The sound of the door of a car being shut closed and the start of an engine made her rush. In the corner, she could only see a black vehicle with no matriculation driving away fast behind a sand hill. The agent cursed to herself. After a full minute silence, Van Pelt eventually spoke in the earphone:

"Well; it went all right."

 **-AH-**

When Lisbon shut the door of her car that night, she couldn't help the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. After the guy's information, it became clear that not only Rouge Johnson was someone who could possibly be out of hand, but also that investigating on her was dangerous for whoever got too close. If her fallen comrades were the mere proof of that…No wonder why Hightower wanted to stay discreet.

She quickly glanced around her. No-one was in the parking lot. Jeez, than why did she feel something bad was about to happen to her? Mere paranoia? Or was it her guts speaking to her?

She was quickly answered when footsteps approached at fast speed and something hit her head before she could turn back, turning her world into darkness.

 **-AH-**

The sound of a roaring engine woke Lisbon up. At first she didn't think much of her position, focusing more on the annoying noise pulling her out of her sacred sleep. Then, all at once, the past events crashed into her head all at once. Someone had knocked her out. In her parking lot; when she knew there was a strong possibility people would come after her. And that was the stupidest way to get abducted, she thought grimly.

Despite being still half-conscious, the woman tried to gather as much information as she could from her surroundings. She was hand-tied, apparently feet-tied and gaged. Her body was lying on something hard yet mobile –the surface wouldn't stop pitching and tossing, giving her a headache- and she was not alone. Someone was sitting in front of her, manoeuvring around something while glancing around nervously.

This did not sound good.

Another detail caught her attention. The engine noise was too close to be some other people passing by. And was that water clapping she heard tapping around? The engine stopped and when her –obviously- captor moved, whatever they were in followed the move and tossed as well.

Crap, she thought, they were in a small boat. This did _not_ sound good at all.

"Bring her over the edge" a man's voice said from lower. So whoever was in front wasn't alone. "And make sure she doesn't see your face."

When hands caught her ankles and others her shoulders, she was starting to get really scared. They were seriously going to throw her in the water? What do they think they were; mafia? When she felt her body rising off the ground, she struggled, trying to get out of their grip. It was a desperate measure action of course –they were apparently determined to get rid of her and if they dropped her in some lake tied up, well it wasn't like she could swim her way out.

"Damn hold her tighter!"

Her struggles eventually paid off as she managed to free her legs and kicked blindly the man. Lisbon knew she touched something when she heard him groan in pain, and tried to get on her feet or something. The one in front of her pushed her backwards and, losing balance, the petite agent slipped overboard and fell in the water.


	5. Chapter 5

**Guest:** Thank you :D

* * *

 **The Agent and The Host**

 **5.**

For a moment, Lisbon couldn't hear of feel a thing. The cold liquid surrounding her turned her mind numb and her body didn't act instinctively. It was only when she realised where she had ended that she started batting her feet frenetically.

Lisbon didn't know how much time she spent moving, trying desperately to reach for the surface. Her tied hands were no use and her clothes were a dead weight pulling her downwards. Her gag was preventing her from speaking and absorbing water all the same, and if she didn't get to breathe any soon…

A last kick pushed her a few seconds out of the water. The small gasp of fresh air she could get wasn't enough though and she was soon drowning back under waters.

"Agent Lisbon!" she heard some voice cry before being submerged again.

The woman fought a little more, hoping this was not her enemy. For what seemed hours, she struggled against the cold and tried to catch as much air as she could. Then, slowly, her muscles started to get numb. Her eyes closed slowly. A wave of tiredness overtook her body and she slowly stopped moving. The water wasn't so cold anymore she realised. It was slowly turning warm, and resting. In spite of herself, the tension deserted slowly, replaced by an urge to get some rest…

A strong hand suddenly grabbed her shirt by the collar and pulled her out of the water. As if the move had been a trigger, all her senses came back to life. Lisbon welcomed the air greedily and barely noted when strong arms pulled her over some more solid ground. Her hands were suddenly freed and the cloth in her mouth disappeared, allowing her to breathe easier. It took her a few seconds to realise someone was stroking her back in attempt to warm her, and speaking words she couldn't understand.

"G-get 'w-ay…" she stuttered, trying to sneak out of the physical contact. Her recent battle got the better of her, and she fell on the side, breathing heavily. Once again, darkness started to surround her and the last thing she saw before fainting was the worry reflected two bright blue eyes.

 **-AH-**

When she opened her lids again, Lisbon realised a few things: her head was ready to explode, her throat was straight dry and…she wasn't in her bed. The usual smell of vanilla had vanished, replaced by some lilac, and the very texture of her sheets were rougher. She blinked a few times, trying to gain a quicker control over her members and memories. What had she done the previous night, to end up here? She remembered getting out from work, walk to her car, open the door…did she get home?

The rest crashed over her. Someone tried to kill her. Someone tried to kill her by drowning her.

A deep shiver ran through her spin. She hated water. She wasn't hydrophobic, but she couldn't stand swimming in waters in which she couldn't set a foot. Since that accident, when she was twelve, she couldn't even…watch that deceiving liquid without imagining a dead body floating…Lisbon pushed the thought aside and shook her head. She had more important things to deal with right now. Like…how did she survive already?

A quick glance around was enough to inform her on various facts: she was in a purple bedroom furnished with a few closets, a chair and…why a yellow bucket close to the bed?...She was wearing a large green T-shirt and there was a glass with white pills set next to it. On a paper next to it, she could read in an elegant handwriting ' _if headache during awakening'_. The agent hesitated, then picked the pills and swallowed them. She had almost drown the past night; if whoever brought her here wanted to kill her, he or she would have done it ages ago. Nothing came back to mind while she tried to replay the events in her head.

She couldn't remember much of the visual, mostly sensations. Her clinging clothes over her skin, her lungs begging for air, the soreness of her muscles…

A deep shiver ran through her spine and she suddenly felt sick. She caught the yellow bucket and threw up. There wasn't much in her stomach, for she hadn't eaten the previous night and not much was rejected but it still made her feel awful…When she was done, she had a hard time getting a grip over herself. Panting irregularly, her head dizzy and her lids heavy…she had better days.

"Oh, you're awake."

Lisbon raised her head from her bucket and was greeted by the sight of a young woman, in her early twenties, dressed a dark red bathrobe, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She could only stare as the newcomer pulled out a packet of cigarettes from her pocket and took one out.

"You mind if I smoke?" she asked coolly. "Ma'am?"

Lisbon blinked before shaking her head. The lighter made a soft 'clip' as the young woman pushed the button and created a small frame for her cig. She pulled it once before taking a deep breathe and inhaling.

"You're okay? You were kind of a mess when Patrick brought you in here."

Who was she? Where was she? Where had she been? What did she mean by…?

"Patrick, you mean Mr Jane?"

The woman nodded absentmindedly, pulling her cig once again.

"Sure. He told me you hit your head hard in a fountain or something –which is why you were drenched and dread cold. We both know it's a lie but if he doesn't want to tell him, not my business. In the meantime, your clothes are clean and dry in the bathroom. Just leave my stuff there when you'll change. God you're so skinny, I had a hard time finding something that would fit you," she said, shaking her head. "I'm Brooke by the way," she added, moving closer to her and glancing at the pail between her hands. "You don't need this anymore?"

Lisbon shook her head, feeling extremely embarrassed. She wasn't some little girl who needed to be taken care of. But then, she wasn't in the best position to protest.

"Thanks," she mumbled weakly when the woman took away the now half-filled bucket. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"If you want to thank someone thank Sophie, my roommate. She's the one who nursed you when Patrick brought you back."

"Good thing she's an ace student in medicine. She pulled you out of some jam you were."

And Teresa Lisbon could just groan with annoyance at the appearance of a now familiar, blond-haired young man, wearing the widest Colgate smile she was ever given to see. Patrick Jane was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an amused grin over his face.

"Good morning sunshine! So how does my favourite agent feel this morning?" At her blank stare, his smile stretched even more. "Oh, that crappy? Well, that what's happen when you are clumsy. Good thing your fall didn't damage your pretty face. It would have been a huge loss for the masculine community."

Lisbon's jaw fell low in disbelief. Brooke merely rolled her eyes and walked out of the room, still holding the bucket. When the fair-haired woman was out of the room, the agent asked what just popped in her mind:

"I just have one single question," she started carefully. "Is Brooke…"

"Brooke is my lover, yups" the blond-haired man confirmed cheerfully without waiting for her to end her sentence.

"I can't believe it," Lisbon grunted. "You are hitting on me with your girlfriend in the same room?"

"If he could flirt with an oak tree he would do it," Brooke's voice replied from the corridor, making Lisbon's cheeks flush in embarrassment. That seemed to amuse Jane even more:

"I know, pity these walls are so thin. And Brooke and I are not a couple -ever heard of the term 'friends with benefits'? And darling, I would not flirt with an oak or any tree for the matter! I am not so desperate!" he added at Brooke's intention.

A loud amused snort was his response, and the agent couldn't help but smile amusingly. Perhaps the man was a terrible flirt on boards, but he sure was entertaining. The smile disappeared as soon as the young man turned towards her and announced:

"I called the CBI office a few hours ago. Told a contact you wouldn't be able to show up to-day. Fever's a bitch, don't you think?"

"But I am not sick!" Lisbon protested immediately, trying to get out of bed. A sharp pain in the head told her otherwise and he forced her to lie back down. And what did he mean, he called a contact? Once again, he annoyingly read her mind.

"It's just an old acquaintance; who is not involved in my business. And Sophie specifically insisted on the fact you should rest. Threatened to bloody harm me if I didn't follow her instructions, by the way, and since she is an ace student…she know where it hurts the most."

For a few seconds, Lisbon wondered if he was merely joking or being extremely truthful.

"Anyhow, I will not you get up. Plus, you'll need transport to go back to your house. So please, rest a little; if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already."

While his speech was supposed to reassure her; it only increased her uneasiness. The previous day, a man had warned her against Jane. And the same night, someone tried to kill her. Any coincidence he showed up to the rescue, if he wasn't in the scheme? Was he just an accomplice or really her saviour?

"A lot of question must be going through your pretty mind, Agent Lisbon," he added with a sadden smile. "I can assure you for the moment that you are perfectly safe here. And no, I did not help in your kidnapping but I know what they were intending to do."

"Overheard again?" she snarled.

"Something like that," he replied, shrugging. "Do I get my 'thank you' kiss now?"

A pang of guilt crept in her chest as Jane stared at her more seriously. He had saved her after all, and she hadn't been extremely thankful till now.

"Sorry," the agent muttered, looking away. "I'm a bit on edge lately. Thank you for helping me out."

A soft smile grew on his lips. The man took her closest hand and brought it to his lips.

"Anytime for a damsel in distress."

She was already regretting her gratitude and snapped her hand away, glaring at him. How could such a seducer _be_ with someone? Didn't it bother Brooke to see her fuck buddy to flirt openly with other women under her own nose? The moment was thankfully interrupted by the high-pitch cry of a baby somewhere around the house. Lisbon blinked in surprise as Jane's face fell in annoyance.

"Jeez," he muttered. "I'll bring you breakfast, just try to rest a bit."

As he walked out of the room, Lisbon sighed and reluctantly obeyed. As much as it felt humiliating to be nursed by two young people, it felt good to be looked after. She promised herself she would repay them as soon as she could.

"How is he?" she heard the blond man ask his more-or-less girlfriend.

"I don't know; maybe a fever. I have an appointment with the doctor. I won't be able to be on stakeout today."

"It's okay; keep that little one in shape. I'll call your boss when I'm done with our guest," he added on a more amused tone.

No more voices were heard for a while and she felt herself drift away. When she opened her eyes again, a trail was set on the nearest table. Jane must have sneaked back in and let it there. Pancakes and fry eggs and bacon were set in a plate under a plastic cover to keep them warm. Alongside, a bowl of soup was waiting to be eaten, as well as two white pills. _'For the fever to go down'_ said the white note next to it. Despite her slight headache, Lisbon couldn't help but smile. Perhaps he wasn't the most trustworthy man around, but now she knew why Brooke kept him around.

 **-AH-**

"The Queen has arrived" Jane announced while crashing the breaks of his blue Citroen. Luckily, the seatbelt prevented Lisbon from being thrown against the windshield. The agent breathed in deeply and was not surprised to see her hands shaking. It was official; that guy was a madman. The speed at which he drove was…blasphemy! He almost knocked down two oldies, drove through at least three red lights with no accident –only God knew how- and on top of that, he was grinning like a kid who had discovered a new toy.

"I'm impressed Agent Lisbon. Most of my passengers had puck on the carpet. Brooke didn't though, but she never came with me again," he added with a smirk.

"Do you know I should give you a huge fine for what you just did?" she managed to utter, not without difficulties. The blond man had the audacity to look offended.

"A huge fine? Agent Lisbon, I just save your life, acted like the perfect nurse the whole time and even drove you back to your house, and you are threatening to give me a _fine?_ Jeez, gratitude these day!"

Lisbon groaned nonetheless, feeling he was just mocking her…again. Grumbling a quick 'thanks' –she would let this one pass because he had saved her life after all- she stepped out of the car and headed towards her building.

'Hey, agent Lisbon!"

The woman turned back towards him. Jane was waving at her from the driver's seat to come closer. Sighing, she passed her head through the window and opened her mouth to ask him what he wanted, when a warm pair of lips brushed hers before pulling away. Lisbon was too stunned to even think of slapping him.

"I never cheated on Brooke without telling her before –and frankly, she doesn't care if I do," he whispered in a soft, husky tone. "But I swear, you are one of those who deserve a man's full attention. I don't know who that 'Sam' guy you were rambling about in your delirium was, but I sure know he did not deserve you. Till next time, Teresa."

And before she could add anything, he started the engine and drove away. It took her a few minutes to realise what he had just done, and when it fully dawn over her, Lisbon's cheeks flushed and, for the hundredth time that morning, cursed against him.

-AH-

There were no words to describe Lisbon's annoyance when she showed up at work the next morning. When she had called the office the afternoon Jane brought her back to her apartment, Van Pelt had answered and asked if her fever and diarrhoea had lessened. Needless to say, the senior agent had not only been extremely embarrassed, but as angry as hell against the blond man and whoever called the CBI on his order. The good side was he had managed to get her a few days off, and even though she didn't need them she still used one to relax a little before throwing herself in the upcoming battle.

Another point that frustrated her; the small peek he gave her before taking off. She didn't know what it meant –if it meant anything at all; was he merely playing her, messing with her head or being…a playboy, like he seemed to be–and probably was. Though once again, it's her reaction to the brush that aggravated her more. She had _blushed_ for God's sake! And it kept lingering in her mind, teasing her merciless, because they had been…warm. Gentle. And she hadn't been kissed for more time she cared to admit.

Pushing the thought aside, she opened the door of the building and sneaked in, fully determined on finding out if Red John was behind her abduction and attempt of drowning. For a moment though, she wondered if she was more upset over the fact someone tried to kill her or Patrick Jane was the one to rescue her. Maybe both, she decided. The woman was so absorbed in her thinking, she barely noted Cho was calling after her when she passed by.

"Anything new?" she asked immediately after the usual greetings, hoping the Asian man would give her something to pound over. Lisbon was in the right mood to catch a killer today, especially when the said-killer probably ordered her death and she had to be saved by that…guy. Okay, perhaps the fact a blond playboy had to help her unnerved her more.

"No, but Hightower wants to see you in her office."

Lisbon winced, wondering what her boss was planning, and glanced around. Something was missing…

"Van Pelt isn't here?" she asked, realising the redhead wasn't around.

Cho shrugged.

"She left for the bathroom a while ago to make a phone call. Apparently something happened in her family."

Lisbon nodded and took off to the black woman's office. She just hoped the young woman's problems weren't bad enough to interfere with the case. She knew somehow Van Pelt would be the first one annoyed to mix up professional and personal life…A quick glance through the blinds informed her that Hightower's office was empty of visitors. So, after a quick knock, she pushed the door open and entered.

"You asked for me, ma'am?"

The black woman raised her head at her entrance and interrupted her current activity –filling another file from another case. With a swift nod, she invited the senior agent to sit in front of her.

"Yes, don't worry it won't be long," she said on a dry tone. "In fact, extremely simple; Agent Lisbon are relieved from Paul Fricke's case."

* * *

 **'Brooke' is Brooke Harper, a con woman from season 1. I just fell in love with that character. Shame she didn't show up again, I thought she and Jane could have been fantastic friends ^^**

 **Till next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A little interlude here...Katie's pov.**

 **Guest:** thanks :)

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **6.**

A file containing information on a new case was opened right under her nose, but Lisbon didn't have the heart to go through it. She was disgusted. Utterly disgusted. Barely an hour earlier, she was in Hightower's office with the woman making it clear the case was now to be put aside. No, her methods of investigation had nothing to do with it; she was a very efficient leader that had managed to find more information in two days than Hayce in one week. It had also nothing to do with the two days off she had just taken; she had every right to be sick at bad moments. It was not either an attack on her career –which she couldn't care less at that moment- but a direct order of higher-ups.

The agent had almost jumped off her seat and yelled at her boss, but the black woman seemed as bitter as she was. Plus, she knew better than to explode now. Her hot temper in her rookie days had been her mentor's nightmares for years before she eventually realised that the 'cool and calm' way brought so much better results. And her team still felt the unpleased feelings irradiating from her and didn't ask too many questions. They were given a new case after all.

Another murder someplace in town; some high-rank employee from some bank or something. Lisbon sighed and put down the file. She had been scanning for the past five minutes without even remembering the name of the victim. Her mind was too worked up over the case she was forced to leave cold. The single thought of it made her feel like puking. Rouge Johnson had serious allies up there –allies, or lots of blackmail material.

Lisbon sighed again and closed her eyes for a moment. She just wished she had a punching bag to get all of her frustrations off. Jane would be an excellent opponent; she couldn't help but think with a small smirk. Having his face scotched on her leather, her fists clenched and ready to hit that pretty face…That would be such a relief…

"Boss?" Van Pelt's voice suddenly took her out of her reverie. "You've got a phone call…should I transfer it line 1?"

"Okay…yeah, please do that. Thank you," the older woman replied with a sharp nod before the redhead left and her office phone rang. She picked up again, wishing for anything that would distract her for a few minutes and pull her back in cop-mode…

" _I have something on Fricke, agent Lisbon."_

The woman blinked and stared at the phone. Was it a damn coincidence or did hints only showed up when she was at a dead end? She knew that voice. She had heard it the previous day.

"Are you…" the agent started, trying to remember Jane's lover's name. There was a soft chuckle on the other line.

" _That would be me ma'am. As I was saying, I have something I can tell you about Paul."_

Lisbon's interest was immediately picked up. She wasn't allowed to investigate on that case? Like hell! She was going to solve it with her own means if needed, but she sure wasn't going to let the poor guy's death turn into some random cold case. If she followed her guts –and she usually had good intuition, then she knew she had to befriend someone of the Red Host Club. And if Jane's crew was the only help she could get, well…it's not like she was in a position to be picky.

"I'm listening."

" _Paul's girlfriend. Her name is Katie and she lives in the suburbs, someplace near Brixton Park. If you want to meet her, it'll be there. Always around five pm."_

"How will I recognise her?" Lisbon asked, making a mental note about checking where that place was before making any moves.

" _Blond short hair, brown eyes. Not too thin. She's always wearing the red earrings Paul gave her for their first anniversary and a crème-like shirt. Well, meeting party, but that's just a detail. She'll know who you are."_

"How do you know?" the woman immediately asked before her interlocutor had the chance to hung up. There was another amused chuckle.

" _Let's say it's my job, to tip off people here and there. Have a nice day, agent Lisbon."_

And before Lisbon could add anything, the line was out.

 **-AH-**

Katie had always been a simple woman with a banal life. She had a few friends; a few foes; went to middle school, high school and graduated, earned a degree in some college before flying to the states to find a job. She had, actually, thanks to an old aunt. Secretary in a banal office. There again, she made a few friends, not close though. She had a few men, one who even proposed to her but she didn't love him enough to marry him.

One day, she met Mr Fricke. Actually, it was more chance that brought them together, since she never thought she'd be going to the library that evening. But here he was, chatting with the librarian –Claire was her name on the badge. He had somehow spotted her, had asked her out for a drink, they had talked, they parted ways and she never thought she would ever see him again.

Odds proved her wrong. Two days later, the man presented himself at her office and bugged her until she reluctantly agreed for a coffee. Since that day, he had shown himself so adamant to court her she eventually accepted a date with him. Paul wasn't the greatest man, she had realised after they started to know each other better. He was a host, playboy on sides and had an incredible list of former lovers ready to jump in bed with him again. Despite all of these defaults, she somehow still managed to fall for him. The day she found out she was pregnant…he completely changed.

Quitted his job and found another one at a café. Started to work hard to get them a comfortable living, claiming that no-one had really ever given him the chance to start a stable life, and that he was willing to try with her. She had never known much about his past, though she guessed he wasn't proud of it. The only friend he introduced her to was the one that pushed him away from the job, a certain Patrick Jane…and the moment she crossed his cold and calculating eyes, she knew the blond man was up to something. He wasn't a bad fellow, she could easily tell by his manners and behaviour towards people around him, the way he sometimes candidly spoke or sometimes Paul's tells. She just had this uneasy feeling he had an agenda…

"Miss…Katie?"

A woman's voice caught her attention and she raised her head. A small dark-haired woman wearing a police badge was in sight was approaching with a hesitant look on her face. Katie smiled gently.

"You must be agent Lisbon," she replied on a friendly tone. "I was told you would come today."

And carefully coached on what to answer; though there were no tricks or lies, and that discussion had been more to help her relax before the meeting than prepare a bunch of false information. The newcomer seemed a little annoyed by this -it was obvious in her features, but didn't voice it out.

"You were Paul Fricke's fiancée, right?" when Katie nodded, the agent added on a softer ton e, noting her current state: "I'm sorry for your loss." Katie nodded once again, feeling the pang of sadness building up in her chest again. "I won't take too much of your time; in fact I only have a few questions."

The interview started right away. Katie merely had to answer the usual questions about friends and enemies, if there was something strange in his behaviour the last days, and eventually caught the agent's attention when she first mentioned the name of Patrick Jane.

"He and Paul were good friends…or rather, Paul always spoke highly of him. He always used to tell me he had a difficult life and was trying to accomplish something, using every card he had at hand; and he wanted to help him."

The dark-haired woman frowned.

"Are you saying that your fiancé was involved in some scheme Mr Jane was building?"

Katie nodded and looked straight in her eyes.

"He never really spoke about it, but I always knew it was something dangerous. I only know that Paul's death was not a mere murder. He had access to information he shouldn't have. The only things I managed to gather from him were…stuff on a serial killer that no-one suspected. I deducted, according to what Paul told me about Patrick and what I was able to learn about the man himself; he lost someone dear in the past and never got over it. What he is trying to do today is take down that person's killer, moving carefully. And I understood that the woman they call Red John is responsible for all this mess…But this is just me speculating," she added with a shrug. "I am no detective or overly smart person like Patrick is."

"You seem like a strong and smart person to me, Katie," Lisbon cut gently. "Despite the loss of your fiancé, you still have your head on your shoulders."

The blond woman chuckled bitterly. If she told the agent how crazy she went after Paul's death, would she still consider her 'strong'? Katie knew she was far from being so. If it wasn't for the baby and Patrick's intervention, who knew what she could have done? And she had accepted the blond man's deal without second thoughts after all.

"I am leaving the country tomorrow morning. I am flying back to England, I have no one left here," she turned towards the brunette and added softly: "Patrick told me the investigation was put on hold. Is it true?"

She saw Lisbon hesitate, and that was enough for her. When the dark-haired woman opened her mouth, she knew the agent wouldn't lie.

"He's right. But this isn't done for me. Your fiancé deserves justice, like anyone else."

That lady was honest and determined; if anyone would catch her fiancé's murderer…that would be her. Suddenly, Katie felt the urge to add something;

"Then God bless you, agent Lisbon. And I know you seem to be suspicious of him but please, just remember Patrick is not what he seems to be. Because you are a cop, he will be your ally as long as you are useful to him but dump you if you are in trouble. He would have saved Paul if he could, I know it, but the last agent he was in contact with disappeared…and they still haven't found his body yet. Please be careful."

"I will," the woman replied firmly, and the blond woman knew she had been right to trust her instinct.

After asking if she knew the agent's name –which was Hans Westwood- Lisbon stood up and walked back to the SUV parked on the other side of the road. Once the vehicle had disappeared, Katie stood up and headed to another car, parked in the alley. The door opened and Brooke Harper came out.

"The driver is one of our connexions with the CBI and seconding Agent Lisbon."

"So, trustworthy," the blond woman nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

The younger woman nodded, let her in and before shutting the door and walking away, whispered a ' _thanks to you_ ' in return. The car started immediately and the blond woman made herself comfortable. Harper was cool and pragmatic; perhaps that was why Jane had chosen her as his watchdog and lover. Katie smiled to herself at the thought. As expected from the blond man, a careful planner…

"Does your boss know about your connexions with Mr Jane?" she suddenly asked with a hint of curiosity. The driver shrugged and replied:

"No she doesn't, and I would like to keep it this way."

Katie nodded and rested her forehead against the cool window.

"Of course," she murmured, closing her eyes. Her hand slipped over her stomach and stroked it gently. "Are you supposed to drive me to the airport?"

"You have done your part," was the response. "There is no reason to endanger your life more."

"He doesn't need me anymore, go figure," she chuckled amusingly before adding: "Selfish bastard. I just pray he will stay off-radar long enough to catch Rouge."

"He knows what he is doing," the driver answered quietly.

And as the car ran past the buildings, Katie allowed herself to cry a little. Just a little, before she had to face the long journey awaiting her.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Agent and the Host**

 **7.**

Patrick glanced at his watch and sighed. He should have expected it. Past one pm, the forth day. The woman was a real workaholic. Would she be skipping lunch this time too, he wondered? There he was, sitting on a bench facing a building filled with cops. The mere idea gave him the creeps, but he wasn't going to give up now. A few cars left the parking lot, their driver eager to take off and catch something to eat. He sighed. Thankfully, he hadn't come across Hightower or someone else that could have recognised him yet. They would wonder why the young man had been sitting in front of his most hated place in town for half a week now at lunchtime.

A ground of people –cops too- walked pass him, chatting loudly. The blond man didn't bother listening to their chitchat, instead tried to make out a decent reading on them. He had barely finished with one of the women of the group that he gave up, bored out of his mind. He was dying to sneak inside, peek around and give a stroke to Hightower by waving at her through the blinds of her office, take news from his contact in there…

He sighed for the third time in five minutes and stretched his arms with a grunt. He would give her…thirty minutes. If she didn't show up afterwards, he will leave and come back the next day.

 **-AH-**

Skipping meals was bad for health, Lisbon knew it perfectly. But still, she needed to finish writing that damn report on the bank employee's case. The murderer had been so obvious –second hand, impulsive crime with so much evidence even the local cops could have done the investigation themselves. Lately, a whole bunch of murders and crimes files had been piling up on her desk. She just had that feeling they were keeping the unit busy, in case someone had decided to work deeper in Fricke's case. And for the moment, they were managing well. A whole week had passed since Lisbon had met Katie, and she didn't even get a full minute to herself.

A quick glance through the window and she sighed. The weather was great outside and she was stuck in that small office…

 _Oh screw it!_ Lisbon thought, picking up her handbag and heading out. She could take an hour to herself, no-one was going to die and suffer of her absence during that time. The agent was now known for her dedication to the job and strict professionalism; no-one would blame her to take a break from her overwhelming work.

But when Lisbon spotted _him_ outside the CBI, rising from his bench and walking in her direction, she froze like a deer caught in full light and wished HARD she hadn't been attracted by the beautiful sun. What the hell was Patrick Jane doing here?

"Good morning agent Lisbon," the young man greeted with a cheerful smile once he was close enough. "Are you heading out for lunch?"

He was wearing a brown jacket and a pair of jeans and basket shoes. The woman didn't want to debate mentally on how hot he looked right now. She narrowed her eyes at him and went on without answering. But that was far from discouraging.

"Oh c'mon Lisbon, I am just asking you out for a lunch. There is nothing wrong about that, isn't there?"

"Just leave me alone," she grumbled, determined not to look in his eyes. Yes, perhaps she needed him to solve Paul's case, but she did not want to see him right now. A nice cup of coffee and a sandwich from Marie's were awaiting her and…she blinked as he pulled both items out of nowhere.

"Chicken and salad, right?" the young man grinned amusingly. Lisbon glared at him. "If you agree, you can ask me anything you want. I swear I won't lie." When her suspicious gaze didn't falter, he added with a sigh: "C'mon Agent Lisbon; it's not so bad, is it? I mean, okay, you will have to deal with my presence, but you still have free food! And I bought a slice of cheesecake?"

Even if the mere thought of eating in his company made her want to snort, Lisbon still pondered her options. On the one hand, Jane and his devastating –annoying, she corrected herself – grin, his tendency to work on her nerves and on the other hand, the sandwich and…cheesecake. Tough dilemma, she thought. But that was enough for Patrick to make him move.

"Great! I know a place not too far from here, very peaceful if you want to eat quickly."

Lisbon didn't even have time to protest; he already plunged the food in her hands, was waggling the box containing the pastry and thus forced her to follow him with a grin.

 **-AH-**

They had eventually head to a peaceful park near the CBI building, but still far enough to have a private conversation. There were a few trees creating welcomed shadows, benches and tables where to sit…a really great atmosphere to relax a sunny day. Lisbon made sure to remember the place: at least, now she knew where to go for lunchtime.

"What do you want anyway?" she asked reluctantly, already biting fully into the bread. God, she _was_ hungry she realised. Jane's beam grew wider.

"Seduce you of course!"

She paused in her eating and glared at him. Damn, why did he have to sound so serious with that huge grin of his?

"More seriously?"

"All right, you got me," he sighed with a dramatic pout. "And for data, I wouldn't seduce over a meal. Too sophomoric. I'd rather corner you in some private place and…"

"Jane," she warned, narrowing her eyes. He raised his hands in surrender, the smirk back in place.

"You win. In fact, I gathered more information lately, and I…need a favour." And when she rolled her eyes, he added: "It's not for me. Remember Brooke?" the young woman's face came back into the agent's mind and she nodded. "She has a kid, Matthew. He is almost two years old and…well he has a fragile constitution and had been pretty sick his whole life…In fact, he needs a spinal cord transfusion very soon. Brooke caught some disease when she was a kid and…well she's out of the donor list. According to the doctors, the best chance would be from his father."

At first, Lisbon felt compassion towards the young woman. Then, Jane's words puzzled her a little.

"You want me to find him?"

"No need to," the blond man replied soothingly. "We know where he is. The thing is…to approach him. It's hard to get close to him."

"Why?"

"Does the name Walter Mashburn ring a bell?"

Lisbon almost dropped her sandwich and stared at him in shock.

"Are you telling me your girlfriend had a kid with that arrogant multimillionaire jerk?" she asked with in disbelief.

Jane chuckled, amused by her reaction.

"Pretty much the summary. Well to be honest I didn't get the whole picture, Brooke is a very secretive concerning her past." His expression suddenly turned serious. "But I do know that kid's life is in danger." His blue eyes drilled into hers with such intensity she thought she would quaver. "Can you help on this one?"

Lisbon tightened her lips in a thin line. Helping Brooke out for her kid? Of course, no problem. Trying to reach _Walter Mashburn_ of all people? That might be a little trickier. When she didn't reply right away, obviously thinking hard, and went on eating, he asked:

"What's bothering you with the guy?"

Lisbon groaned:

"He was a suspect on a murder case last year," she groaned, shaking her head at the memory before biting in her sandwich again. "The jerk flirted shamelessly with every woman in the room –no matter if they were cops or civilians- and decided I would be his next lover." Lisbon sighed. "He even gave me his personal number and ended up calling me three days later. I just told him to screw himself."

Jane busted out of laughers, and the agent couldn't help but smile too. That moment hadn't been the most brilliant of her career, but she was still proud of not giving in. In some ways, he and Jane were a little similar…both had extravagant and straightforward personalities, a sharp tongue and knew exactly what they wanted and how to act to get it.

"Perhaps he is a jerk…But I have to admit, he has good taste," the young man added with a more serious expression. Lisbon didn't like the way he was suddenly looking at her.

"All right, what do you have?" she asked to change subject, no longer feeling comfortable.

"You will help me?"

"I will help that kid, not you," the agent narrowed her eyes again. "What do you have for me?"

Jane sighed and shook his head.

"Killjoy," he muttered. "Anyway, I recently find out some footage that Dumar modified a few days after I went to visit you. He changed the time to build himself an alibi."

"I knew that," she grumbled, remembering the encounter with the tall man. Jane frowned in surprise.

"Oh really? How?"

"I've got my sources," she replied dryly. All right, that was more by chance than from a real contact, but she didn't like the idea he was the _only_ one bringing up information. Obviously, it meant he had been searching for evidence and clues and he _had_ been working longer on the case after all. But it still left a bitter taste of being manipulated, and she hated it.

"Oh, okay," he replied simply. "Just to say I might be able to swap that tape, to save it for evidence. Funny, I didn't think anyone else knew about that."

"Well it seems you are not the only one wanting to take her down," she grumbled. Jane smiled at that and shrugged nonchalantly. "Anything else?"

The young man nodded:

"I had echoes about a place. Lately, she's been keeping her victims somewhere before killing them, but I never really found out where. I had a hint lately, but I need a few days to sort it out. Nothing more I'm afraid."

And that was apparently worth something Lisbon realised at his slight victorious tone. A place where they could find solid evidence of her implication in murders…wait. _Murders_. Plural.

"I have a question" she suddenly spoke up. When she was sure she had his attention, she asked: "Why point me to Katie all of a sudden? And why did she mention a serial killer?"

Jane's lips formed a thin line.

"It's… an old case. Started seven or eight years ago. A corps was found in the back of a dirty alley in Dallas. Jersey Horton, a young woman in her twenties. Then, two months later, another one in New Jersey. Hannah Elias. Thee others in Manhattan; two in Boston and so on. There were similarities in their positions, the way they were killed and the fact they were all natural-haired. Also, fingernails painted with their blood. They were all murdered near a place they were comfortable in. The crimes were committed in various states, so it didn't appear like a serial killer at first. A…cop friend started the file and tied the murders together. I took over it when he was forced to resign two years ago."

Jane looked straight ahead, leaning his elbows on his knees and talking slightly quieter.

"His prime suspect wasn't Rouge Johnson back then, but someone close to her. I got suspicious when I find out her personal car was photographed near one of the crime scenes; and was positive when the previous suspect was murdered in turn. I…followed her for a while and realised she had build that Host club. I got hired and since then, am trying to find a way to show her real face."

"And all this because you lost someone to her?" the agent whispered in disbelief. It wasn't the first time she met people running after someone for revenge, but he was particularly implicated in his scheme. How…organised he was, the people he associated with, everything screamed nothing had been left to chance.

He surprised her when his hand moved over her thigh and came dangerously came closer to her hip.

"Stop it right now!" she growled, jumping off the bench, narrowing her eyes at him. "Stop your games or I swear I will bring you in for harassment!"

A dark shadow veiled his eyes. His pupils were a little too dilated for her taste. This was the same look she caught the day he surprised her half-naked in her apartment, and the weird feeling within her had return.

"You must have noted, agent Lisbon, that Mashburn and I have similarities," he merely replied with a shrug. "He uses his charms and money to get what he wants. I use my charisma and deals. We are different in one little detail though." The blond man stepped closer, his eyes not breaking the connexion with hers. " _I_ don't give up so easily when I want something. I am very patient." When did his voice became so husky, she wondered, feeling a shiver shaking her spine. And when did she feel…aroused by threatening words? He cracked a smirk, as if ready her mind, when he took another step.

He was way too close for her liking. A finger reached for her cheek and brushed it gently. Lisbon forgot to move, trapped in his blue gaze. When he leant forwards, face inches of hers, she didn't think of pulling away.

"I waited three years to get a slight upper hand on Rouge Johnson," he whispered, his breath tickling her lips. "Katie was right in her speculations. I did lose someone dear to that woman, and I will make her spend the rest of her life behind bars or die trying." His thumb brushed her lower lip. "Using every card I have under my hand." A weird smirk grew on his face. "And you have just become one of the aces of my deck. Welcome to the game, Teresa."

He suddenly pulling back made her realise _what_ she was doing; falling straight in that manipulative brat's schemes. The agent frowned and replied dryly:

"I wasn't intending to back off."

"Oh, I know," he replied with a teasing grin.

"Then why do you feel the…urge to show up like this and just…I don't know! If you don't like the CBI building because of officers, you know where I live! I want to solve that case to so no need to behave like an arrogant playboy ass."

The blond man blinked at her and laughed out loud.

"I think I like you more and more, Agent Lisbon. I will contact you soon. Until then…"

Before she could say anything, he picked up her hand and kissed its back, then bowed in a ridiculously archaic manner and walked away. Lisbon could only stand and stare at his retreating figure. The man was such an unpredictable fellow, and so many contrary things were said about him left her puzzled. He was still so young yet was acting like someone much older, as if bearing some weight on his shoulder. His behaviour towards her too, puzzled her. Why was he acting so…ambiguous and halfway seductive and clearly manipulative? He knew she would continue the investigation, yet he didn't stop his game.

And above all, she thought while trying to keep the blush off her cheeks, why was her heart beating so widely right now?


	8. Chapter 8

**A bit Brooke centred in the beginning, but then some 'Jisbon-ny' parts ^^**

 **Also I'm currently in Germany, so next update will be later than usual ^^"**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **9.**

Brooke Harper had hardly been a nervous woman. Stressed? Yes. Anxious? Of course. But never helpless. No-one really scared her, and she always managed to keep her cool in unexpected situations. Though she had to confess, what was happening to her son was out of control. The little boy was currently lying in his hospital bed, deep asleep. His skin had always been pale, but lately, it had been turning whiter and whiter and she didn't know what to do to calm Matthew's fears, or her owns.

Once again, like every time she came to visit him, she stroke her son's hair gently. He had her hair and her eyes, but most of his features came from his father. She could see it every day passing by. The way he smiled, he laughed, or even frowned…

The young woman smiled fondly at him. Life hadn't been extremely soft on her –absent parents, controlling older brother and uncaring sister; at fifteen she had taken off on her own and things had turned worst, especially after Matthew was born, but she would never take it back. The memories, the love she had in return were worth it all.

"How is he?"

Patrick was standing in the threshold, a worried expression on his face. Brooke sobered immediately, remembering why he was here. Two days after the blond man had gone to meet Lisbon, the agent had called back in the morning, saying Mashburn agreed to have a meeting with the agent. On Brooke's demand, her name hadn't been mentioned. The young woman knew her former lover and wasn't sure he would accept to see her again, unless she used the blunt way.

As Patrick's gaze lingered on her son, the young woman felt a pang of regret in her chest. Sometimes, she wished _he_ had been the boy's father.

"Not great," she replied, not stopping the gentle move of stroking. "The doctor says that if he doesn't have that…transfusion soon, he won't survive the year."

Patrick's lips tightened in a thin line.

"Everything will be all right Brooke. I'm sure Walter won't turn his back on you."

"I tried to con him," she replied on a cool tone. "He has…lots of money on his bank account. Figured he wouldn't realise a few thousands missing. I ended up liking him more than I should."

"Brooke, you were barely seventeen when you two first met!"

"That's no excuse Patrick! I stayed longer than I planned to. I could have put the money aside within two months and vanish again! Instead I stayed two years."

Jane stepped closer and rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You didn't _like_ him, Brooke. I think you were in love with him. Why keep Matthew if you didn't?"

She turned towards and glared at him. Jane knew then he had stepped on the line and withdrew his hand, muttering a 'sorry, not my business'. From the beginning, the contract had been clear. No strings between them, no confessions that might get them closer. Even though he sometimes mentioned his past, even though she sometimes mentioned hers, nothing else but strict bed-partners rules. Brooke was cold enough to keep her distance, and his revenge kept his whole focus away to get really attached to someone. Given the circumstances, they were a perfect match.

"By the way, last minute change of plans. I'm driving you to Lisbon's and we'll go together from there."

Brooke frowned.

"I am not climbing in that car again with you behind the wheel. You drive way too fast and I don't need to get caught in an accident yet."

"Brooooooke," he whined. "I promise I'll drive safe."

"Drop dead," she retorted with a smirk. "I know she's waiting outside in the parking lot. She won't leave me alone with you in that…rolling corbillar."

Jane chuckled.

"You got me. C'mon, let's go."

 **-AH-**

The multimillionaire hadn't changed much, Lisbon thought when she spotted the tall, dark-haired man sitting on the café's terrace. When he saw her approach, his grin widened in self-assurance.

"I'm glad you eventually called me, Teresa," the dark-haired man greeted her cheerfully. For the umpteenth time Lisbon cursed herself for letting him call this…meeting a 'date'. But she wanted to make sure he wouldn't run away. "So, what did I do to earn your call? I remember you clearly rejecting me last year…what were your words already? 'Go to hell and take a toothbrush'?"

"I didn't call on my behalf," she replied coolly, decided the chitchat would just be a waste of time for both of them, especially when he would realise she had no interest renewing in whatsoever way. A quiet move behind them was enough for Lisbon to know Brooke was making her move. The agent restrained a smirk, understanding what the young woman meant when she said 'blunt approach'.

"Before you start screaming bloody murder and pin everything on Agent Lisbon's back, just acknowledge she owed me one. No need to blame her in any way."

Mashburn widened his eyes in surprise as their last guests appeared on the scene. Jane was also there, standing besides his partner, but more as a posing shield than a lover. With the multimillionaire's attention's on Brooke, Lisbon figured she could as well step back of the scene and join the blond man.

"L…Lindsay? Wh- what the…"

"You haven't changed a bit Walt," Harper said on a softer tone. "Guess those plants you take every morning do keep you in shape."

Lisbon could hardly describe the multimillionaire's expression; he looked torn between relief, hurt and anger, but definitively not indifferent. If she even read him correctly, was that genuine care in his eyes? But…wait a moment, why did he call her 'Lindsay'?

"Brooke Harper is a pseudonym," a soft whisper informed her. Jane was standing closer to her the she anticipated –he must have moved too. "Her real name is Lindsay Smith. Or I think," he added with a frown. "She did pretend her first name was Angela Michigan once."

Lisbon glanced at the younger woman in disbelief. The blond man took her shoulder and dragged her away.

"It's up to Brooke now," he said calmly. "Let's go back to the car."

 **-AH-**

Nothing much was said for a while. From afar, they managed to catch glimpses of the exchange occurring, Mashburn seemed a little more tempering than the woman. From time to time, Patrick would pull out his phone and text to someone. She knew he had taken his day off from the Red Host to assist his partner, and wondered for a while why he suddenly looked ill-at-ease at the responses he got. Fifteen minutes later, her cell rang in turn.

" _Boss? Sorry to bother you on your day off. We have a new case."_

Lisbon sighed annoyingly and glanced at Patrick. The blond man nodded, signing he had understood the message, and moved further to leave her discuss whatever work problem she was called for.

"It's all right. I'm listening."

" _A woman was found in a backstreet of a supermarket. You're going to love this; they arrested the culprit; Melanie Morin, but she is a woman diagnosis with multiple personality disorder."_

"Great," Lisbon muttered in her breath. "Did you take her in?"

" _She's been taken to a mental hospital. They are keeping her for the night; she had a few injuries too."_

"So no access till tomorrow?"

" _No ma'am."_

"Okay…just go home early tonight. Let's start all fresh tomorrow. Tell Van Pelt too."

" _Yes boss. Good evening."_

Lisbon hung up and sighed.

"Another disturbing case?"

Of course, she had barely put the phone away he would come on her. The agent sighed inwardly and lifted her face to meet his. Despite the calculating, impenetrable eyes, she understood how easy it was to be manipulated by the blond man. Gentle words and manners, the polite curiousness of his expression, making people want to confide him their darkest secrets; like he would keep them to himself. She found herself longing to spill a few things when he looked like this; simply ready to listen, but she was smarter than that. Patrick was a manipulative playboy who knew how to use his charms and the data he collected to his own end.

"Just another murder," she replied, shrugging the answer. "They caught the murdered but…"

She silenced herself when she caught sight of Brooke. The young woman was stepping down the stairs leading to the restaurant's platform, looking grim. Jane stood up immediately and approached her carefully, the question written over his face.

"Walter wants to meet Matthew," she muttered, crossing her arms. "And check the compatibility, for donation."

Her face wasn't in the brightest mood though. Lisbon realised despite the apparently good news, something else was nagging her. A worried glance and a light nudge from Jane made her cave and spill the bad news:

"I think he wants me to give up Matthew."

"WHAT?" both Lisbon and Jane shouted in unison, before they glanced annoyingly and amusingly at each other.

"He didn't say it aloud," the younger woman added bitterly "But it was clear in his eyes. He figured that if I loved that kid as much as I pretend to, then I would have told him earlier." Her eyes grew colder. "If he ever takes my boy away from me…"

The agent recognised Brooke's tone, and she felt the cop warning inside her lightning up. If Mashburn did the mistake of taking the child, Lisbon knew the younger woman would be likely to do something extremely smart and stupid. Another quick glance at the young man assured her he wouldn't let this happen.

"He won't," Patrick assured her firmly. "You know I won't let him."

"And this is none of your business!" the woman snapped, glaring at him. "Matthew isn't yours, it's my issue to sort out."

The words were aggressive, and Jane bit his lower lip. It didn't take a mentalist to realise the young man was hurt by her words. Brooke looked away in turn, closing her eyes. Lisbon suddenly felt like an intruder and cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"I guess I'll…leave now."

Jane smiled briefly at her, and Brooke breathed in deeply and whispered:

"Thank you, agent Lisbon. I…I'm not sure he would have let me approach him if you hadn't called for me. And you took a day off for me…"

"Mashburn is sometimes hard to handle," the agent replied with a tensed smile. "I would have felt bad, leaving you both alone…."

Especially with Jane around, she added to herself. Despite his manners, the young man seemed to be quite the protective type and as a matter of fact, he was fond of the little boy; the expression on his face when he mentioned the child betrayed it.

"Still. Thank you."

Lisbon caught the hesitation and understood the young woman wasn't used to show gratitude towards someone. So she merely smiled back, wished her good luck, and walked away.

 **AH**

Night had fallen for a while, but Lisbon was still staring at her reflect in the mirror. One last touch of lipstick and blush, one last check on her earrings, and she felt eventually set. A little earlier, she had a call from Mashburn assuring her he wouldn't separate mother and child, for he knew Brooke would do bloody harm to him. The lady already possessed sharp fangs, he didn't need her to show her claws. The news had relieved her, and the guilt-less conscious now longed to be distracted.

"I see the lovely agent is out for the night."

Lisbon jumped in surprise and turned towards the entrance of her bedroom. There, Patrick Jane was standing in the threshold, wearing an apparently very expensive suit –so walking out from work she guessed, a killer grin firmly in place and arms crossed.

"How did you get in?" she asked, too surprised to feel angry at him –she could have sworn she had locked the door after coming in.

"You didn't put the chain on. And I never met a lock that resisted my talents," he replied with a flashing smile. "Plus, you did say I could stop by anytime."

The agent looked away, not wanting to check him out when she was about to go out to hunt for a potential one-night-stand. She didn't want him to flirt with her right now; she was not in the mood. In fact, she was rather frustrated and eager to relieve the tension -thus why she had put on one of her sexiest outfit tonight. Lisbon didn't want to sound vain about this, but she knew very few males could resist her charms when she put the effort of dressing up.

"So, even the mighty Teresa Lisbon has needs to be fulfilled."

His teasing, husky voice made her shiver, but she kept appearances. As horny as she felt right now, she still had enough self-control to keep her head high in front of a perverted man. A man way too young for her, she might add. The unexpected brush of his hand over her arm made her jump in surprise; too focused in her thoughts, she hadn't seen him coming closer.

"Did you ever think I was a potential candidate to fulfil those needs? I never heard any of my lovers complain."

Once again, Lisbon stepped away from him. When she crossed his eyes to blow him away, she was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. Powerful blue eyes with pupils widely dilated. His cocky grin told her much more than he could ever say with words; or rather confirming what she had suspected from the start. He wanted her. He wanted her, had waited for the perfect moment to approach her. For a few moments she couldn't think. It had been such a long time since anyone had looked at her this way. Intense and…lusting.

Jane took a step forwards. She immediately backed up. His grin widened. She knew her move was showing off a weakness, but she couldn't stay put and let him approach her. At close range, he was far more persuasive, deceitful even.

"I am not sleeping with you," she growled, narrowing her eyes.

"That remains to be seen," Patrick replied with such self-confidence she wanted to slap his smile off his face. He took another step forwards. She took a step backwards. Suddenly, he moved faster and she backed up so quickly she didn't realise she fell back on her bed. Within seconds, he was there, climbing over her lying frame. Patrick pinned her to the mattress, hands holding her wrists in place, body half-covering hers, face inches of each other. A deep shiver ran through her spin. His skin felt good, he smelt good, and the look in his eyes…

"Get off me," she uttered on a warning tone. She wished her voice had been stronger. The blond man grinned.

"I don't think I want to."

"Damn it Jane! Get off…"

His lips crashed hard on hers, longing for possession and more important, _wanting_. She managed to breathe when he pulled back, only to have her parted lips invaded by his tongue, fighting hers for dominance. Adrenaline and rushes of pleasure shook her entire body as her resolve weakened. When he pulled back, his darkened eyes silenced every word she was about to pronounce. Once he was certain she wouldn't move, he left her lips and followed the line of her jaw and curve of neck, peeping kisses over her skin here and there; teasing her with brushes and bites and gentle nabbing.

As his ministrations taunted her body and triggered the lovely feeling of pleasure she would have been seeking with a stranger later that night, Lisbon's will to fight slowly faded. His hands worked like magic, slowly warning her up, and her mind was getting numb under his forceful yet tender caresses. He was probably right when he bragged about the non-complaining of his former lovers, he sure knew _how_ to touch a woman.

"I. Want. You," he whispered, kissing her lips at every word.

The low, husky tone of his voice and the intensity of his gaze made her shiver and she didn't fight him anymore when he teased the edge of the shirt and pulled it out of her jeans. Gentle fingers traced patterns over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their way. Lisbon closed her eyes and shivered when his lips set over her navel and licked it with a warm, wet tongue.

She hated herself for surrounding so easily to his ministrations…

The woman suddenly straightened and reached for him, hastily undoing his vest and shirt and throwing them away before bringing his face closer for another passionate kiss. If she was going into this, she might as well do her part. His body pinned her completely to the mattress in response, his hips moving sensually against hers and when he abandoned her lips to taste her neck, she threw her head backwards, allowing him more access.

She hated herself for feeling more turned on than she had been in years.

His fingers unbuttoned her shirt while her hands stroke his hips and waist up and down, feeling the smooth skin of his naked torso. His lips tasted every inch of skin put in display. The woman whimpered and arched against him when he stopped over a sensible spot on her collarbone, bringing their sensible parts closer. They both groaned at her move.

 _Why did it have to feel so nice?_

The straps of her bra were moved as Patrick pushed them away and kissed her now bare shoulder. Hands crept under her back to search blindly for the junction of the last cloth covering her chest. Lisbon arched her back again to help him have access. Soon enough, his mouth was doing unmentionable things to her upper body and she was left moaning, her hands buried in his hair, stroking his skull in encouragement.

"Patrick…" she breathed, and he seemed to understand her need for habile fingers started to undo her jeans' belt. In seconds, it was carelessly thrown to join the other clothes on the floor.

The cell phone rang.

Lisbon immediately rolled on her side and picked up, holding a sheet to cover her front. Warm lips rested on her shoulder blade and she had to repress a shiver. It became harder to concentrate when Patrick's hand rested on her waist and drew circles on her naked skin.

"Lisbon," she managed to utter, praying her voice didn't sound too off.

There was a pause on the other side of the line.

" _Uh…boss, you're okay?"_

Damn, she thought, now cursing the young man's incessant and sensual touching over more sensible areas.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Wha-" Jane brushed her navel with his thump and kissed her shoulder again, sending a powerful shiver along her spin. "What's up?"

Lame, she chided herself. Wisely, Cho didn't mention her slip of a tongue nor her unusual out-of-breath intonation.

" _I got a call from Dr Wagner; he allowed Melanie Morin's bringing in. She's currently in the interrogation room."_

Morin, Morin…Lisbon really had a hard time thinking with Jane nuzzling her neck and his wandering hand over her abdomen, tempting her into forgetting about her job and let him do sinful things…C _oncentrate! s_ he ordered to herself. Ah yes, the MPD girl.

"Okay, I'll be right there. Anything useful so far?"

" _She's currently conversing with the invisible man so far. Van Pelt tried to talk to her but she keeps addressing to 'Dango' while staring at the wall."_

"Great" Lisbon sighed in discouragement.

" _She did mention your name though, and someone named Red John"_

At those words, she froze. She couldn't believe it. Was it some weird coincidence or…

"I'll be right there," she repeated, hanging up right here and there. "I have to go" she added for Jane, stepping out of the bed and picking up her bra and top to slip them on. "Just…leave okay?"

"Don't you want me to wait for you?" he asked with a teasing grin, rolling his eyebrows suggestively. "We didn't even reach the best part yet…"

The agent shook her head in disbelief. The idea was tempting, but she knew better. He was just a playboy. Extremely charming –she had to admit he was well-built too- but also arrogant, young and horny, and perhaps a bit worried about his partner's current situation. She didn't need to get tangled more in his personal life and be another conquest on his list, especially one he must be using to forget his fears concerning another woman.

"Listen, I don't know what went through me," Lisbon started. "I…this was just a spur of the moment. We can't do this again, it's not right."

She wanted to refer at Brooke's position, at his right now. They had a long and tiring day, eventful in emotions. They all deserved some rest. She did not expect him to jump off the bed, catch her chin and brush her lips with his.

"Not _right_ , uh?" he whispered huskily against her mouth. "What is _right_ in this crazy world, _Teresa_? You weren't exactly complaining a few minutes ago," his hand slipped quickly on the small of her back and brought her flat against him. "And I'm pretty sure you won't complain if I try again."

His body was warm. Too much heat. He was too close. His face was too close. Bright blue eyes. The knowing smirk. The scent of his cologne. She was hypnotized. There was no other explanation. She couldn't explain otherwise the fact she didn't push him back when their lips met again and started a slow, sensual dance. She couldn't explain otherwise her hands clenching to his shoulders. Or the dirty fantasies about him taking her against the wall her subconscious kept sending her.

"I want you," he whispered again, inches of her lips. "I want you, and we both know it's just a matter of time before I have you."

His hand played with a few dark strands resting on her shoulders. He leant closer to her ear and added in a husky murmur:

"We both know you could have easily pushed me away if you have really wanted to."

She woke up from her trance and slapped his hand away.

"I don't' want to see you around when I'm back," she hissed, narrowing her eyes. "Am I clear?"

Lisbon hated the fact his laugh seemed to echo so clearly in her mind, so… _powerfully_ ; it made her feel weak, reminded her she hadn't been able to shrug away his advances and had surrendered in seconds. Once again, a velvet hand travelled up to her shoulders, brushing her still wide-opened shirt, reminder of his delicious spell over her and his preview to a world of pleasure. She pushed him away and headed to the front door, buttoning her top again and sanctioning her mind for having such dirty thoughts.

"Be safe," she heard him call out from the bedroom. "And I'll drop the copy of the front door key in the mailbox when I leave."

Even though he was still in the bedroom when he spoke, the hoarseness of his voice still made her shiver. She really, really needed a life –or a boyfriend for the matter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Guest:** Hee how long do you think she will resist his charms ;)

 **Nathalie:** I thought Brooke could be an ambiguous but still interesting character. Just like Jane she has her flaws and her 'redeeming' parts. Glad you liked her character a bit better in the end, because it was fun writing it ^^

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **10.**

Patrick watched with interest the woman stepping out of the room, hastily finishing dressing up. Her silhouette disappeared in the corridor before he heard the door slam. Shaking his head with a smile, he went back on her bed, let himself fall on it and closed his eyes. The covers smelt vanilla and cinnamon, mixed with her own scent. He sighed and relaxed. He didn't have to go to work until seven the next morning and she wouldn't be back before a while. Perhaps not back before tomorrow night. It would let him time, to process the last data in his brain.

Teresa Lisbon was not quite what he had expected. Of course, he had heard rumours, tails from the former cop about her legendary fierce temper, stubbornness yet diplomatic ways, and he got what he expected. He just hadn't anticipated the fact she was also a lonely, wounded soul. The glint in her eyes, her manners, her apartment, everything screamed she had gone through hard times in the past. Abused as a child, he supposed. On his first visit, he hadn't found any family portrait, aside from one very old family picture. Smiling parents, herself being surrounded by her brothers –three of them. The last reminder of a happy, loving tribe. He wondered vaguely what had caused the rupture and brought the pain…Death of a sibling? Of all of them?

His cell phone rang. Patrick frowned, wondering who could possibly call him at this time of night. Brooke was way too busy dealing with Mashburn and the mission he gave her and he didn't know many people who would be close enough to use this number. A huge grin grew on his face when he recognized the number and picked up immediately.

"Why hello old man!" he greeted cheerfully. "It's been a while!"

" _That is some way to speak to your mentor,"_ was the disapproving reply.

"Sorry Joe," Jane replied, not sounding apologetic for a bit. "I'm too old to get my manners changed."

" _And my name is not 'Joe'."_

"Meh, where's your humour gone?" the young man whined. "We haven't spoken in years and all I get is reproaches? You need to change your repertory!"

" _And that is exactly the reason why I am calling today. We haven't spoken in years Patrick. Two years exactly."_

The young man's smile faded a little at the reminder. Guilt started building inside, knowing how ungrateful he had been with the older man; especially leaving him without warning or giving any form of explanation.

" _It's not only me. All of your goofy circle of friends are wondering where you've gone."_

"How did you get this number?" he eventually asked to avoid the question.

" _I asked the old cop. Why was he so reluctant to give it to me? You aren't tangled into something dangerous, are you? He didn't blackmail you into following his senile demands somewhat?"_

That was exactly why Patrick hadn't said a thing. If the older man knew what he had been doing exactly the past three years, he would freak out and order him to come back in Nevada. And despite what they thought, Patrick was not the one to put at risk his family.

"It's just searching for information," he replied softly. "And I left willingly. You don't have to worry about…"

" _I hate when you try to lie to me Patrick. Why can't you be honest with me once in your life? Is this about your girlfriend…what was her name already, Angela?"_

Patrick stiffened and closed his eyes. That guy knew him too well to hit the sore spot, even after two years of not seeing him and only speaking over the phone.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

" _Are you…mad at me? For being the one…you know."_ Patrick had to breathe in again to keep his cool and not betray the raw emotion running through his head right now. Remembering the body on that table under gloved hands, or the cold professionalism on the man's face when he examined her cold corpse still made him feel nauseous.

"No I'm not. The reason I left…it has nothing to do with you."

" _So it's her. And whatever you are doing is dangerous."_

"I need it," the young man replied quietly. "You told me the best way to overcome a loss was to have something to focus on. That's…that's my way of coping Georges. I don't know what to do else. That…that _thing_ needs to be brought to justice and I won't stop until she is sentenced to death."

The older man sighed, and Jane knew that despite not agreeing, they wouldn't be fighting over this anymore.

" _At least you're not talking of opening her with a knife anymore."_

"I visited dad when he was in jail," Patrick replied coolly "That place gave me the creeps, I'm not going there. And I don't think Angie would have wanted me to turn into a criminal either."

" _No one wishes that, not your friends and especially not me. Just…come back home someday. I might not have long to live anymore and I don't want to go without seeing my stupid student's face again."_

"I promise old man," he replied with a tease he didn't feel. If his mentor and friend had made up his mind enough to break his promise and call him then… Patrick closed his eyes again, pushing back the wave of sadness threatening to size his throat. "I…I have to go now. I've got a boss who's a real pain in the ass."

It was a complete lie, but he couldn't handle talking anymore. Georges seemed to catch it, but didn't comment.

" _All right. Don't drive your boss crazy, will you? I don't want to receive complains on your uncooperative behaviour again."_

"Don't worry doc… And can you tell Virgil it's coming closer to the end, that Lisbon is the one we needed?"

" _I will. Be careful young man, I don't want to be the one examining your dead body."_

"It's your job, but you won't have to," Jane replied quietly. If Rouge managed to kill him, they wouldn't find his body at all. "Take care of yourself."

A few words to say goodbye and promise he'd call soon again, he hung up. The young man stared at the phone and bit his lower lip. Another reason why he couldn't end up in jail, or dead; the old Georges wouldn't bear it. In spite of his many deceptions, the man never gave up on him. The fact he was the son of the woman he use to love perhaps helped a little. Patrick smiled sadly, put his phone back in his pocket and lay back on the bed.

Lisbon's scent helped him relax and push the guilt at bait to clear his mind. Funny how someone he barely knew managed to soothe him without actually being there, but then again, that woman was special. Special and…beautiful, inside and out. Her hot temper, her wariness around him, everything made her definitively attractive in his eyes. Then, there was her body –a definite plus. She had velvet skin, smelt cinnamon and definitely perfect curves.

Patrick smiled weakly. If he didn't pay attention to where his thoughts or impulses lead him, he would soon be too often daydreaming of what it would be to have her struggling underneath him, eyes closed, lips parted and moaning his name. He had a nice snapshot earlier of what it would be, sleeping with her, and…well he couldn't say he wasn't looking forwards to it.

Patrick smirked at his own thoughts and shook his head before standing out of the bed. He arranged the covers, decided to wash the remaining dirty dished in her kitchen and left her house, slipping the copy key in the mailbox like promised. He spent the whole time wondering when exactly had he turned into such a horny pig.

 **-AH-**

Melanie Morin looked like any normal young woman in her early twenties. Well, eccentric fashionable young woman. She had bright white-ish hair, dark make-up and bloody red lipstick. Added to this her strict businesswoman suit and black spiky collar, Lisbon would say she was full of contradictions, even in her choice of clothing. Perhaps to accommodate her multiple personalities? The agent pushed the door open and entered the room. The recently caught murderer didn't blink at her arrival. Lisbon spotted the lard diamond ring between the smiley and iron ones. Yups, contradictions were found even in her jewelleries.

"Hello Melanie" she greeted, taking her place on the chair. The young woman stared blankly at her and replied in a loud, snobbish tone:

"I am not Melaaanie. She is asleep right now. My current name is Louisiaa. And before you say anything, poor Melaaanie did not kill this poor laady. It was that odd laady who did it! You are Teresaaa Lisbon right? You have to believe me!"

"How do you know my name?" the agent asked with a hint of curiosity. She was certain she had never met this woman before.

"Because that weird laady pronounced it clearly; 'Even that vixen of agent Lisbon won't believe she's innocent. Red John did it'. They all think I'm crazy, but Melaaanie was veeery scared when it happened. She fell asleep and _I_ got to hear the conversation and discover the body. Ungraaateful girl!"

"You were found with the murder weapon in your hand, staring at the body," Lisbon pointed out, rereading quickly the file despite having Cho filling her in.

"Yeaaaas well that was because the knife was Melaaanie's. She uses it in case bad people come around…you know, self-defeeense and all." She suddenly shut up, blinked and looked around. "Wher's Nill?" she asked frowning. "Who're you?"

Is Lisbon hadn't been warned by her subordinates before of some drastic change of behaviour, she would have thought the woman was making fun of her. No wonder why she was designated like the murderer right away. Multiplepersonalities _…_ The agent didn't have much experience with these, but she could tell they seemed to be a real pain somewhere.

"Hello Melanie," Lisbon tried again, hoping this was her right number.

"Nope, wron' pick ma'am" the young woman replied, grinning widely. "Nill's Nill!"

"Nill?"

"Yups, that's Nill," Melanie grinned, pointing at herself. "And Nill would like to know why she's stuck in this Spartan room, not that you're bad c'mpany, but Nill wants t'go back home."

 _Stay calm_ , Lisbon told herself. _Take a deep breathe, everything will be okay._

"I'm sorry Nill, but I have to ask you a few questions about yesterday afternoon."

"Ah, you talkin' 'bout that dead cold gal on th'ground? Cops wer' everywhere with thei' guns and stuff. Was scary but pretty cool. Nill even gotta ride in their cars!" she added excitingly. "How cool was that?"

The agent resisted the urge to roll her eyes and continued the interview. She knew on the other side of the glass, Hightower and Van Pelt were also observing her.

"Nill, do you know why the cops took you in their car?" the younger woman stared at the agent, but didn't answer. "They found you kneeling over the victim with the murder weapon."

"So they think Nill killed her," Melanie sighed and shook her head in disbelief. "Nill swears, she didn' even _know_ that gal was dead cold when she touched her! Swear t'God! Nill just wan'ed to tak' back her knife 'cause Melanie gets all upset when she doesn' have it with her. But didn't the other gals tol'you th'same? Two bimbos. They were laughing at Nill b'cause of some…" Melanie frowned in wonder. "Plot?" she shrugged. "Dunno. Only the redhead patched one was laughing though. That blond chick was shakin' like a Barbie in an igloo."

Lisbon restrained a sigh at the young woman's language, but kept her interest on the new detail. Two personalities had seen intruders on the crime scene, very likely the real culprits. If only the witness wasn't so _crazy_!

"So you say you only picked up the knife and stood over the body. What about the two other women?"

"Dunno," Melanie replied shrugging. "Nill was too busy with the dead cold gal to pay attention to the two livin' ones. But she sure didn' do it! So when can Nill go home?" she asked again with a hint of annoyance.

The door of the interrogation room opened and Hightower appeared in its threshold.

"Lisbon?"

The agent apologised to Melanie and stood up, a little relieved to leave the room. The boss invited her to follow in the other room to keep an eye on the woman's actions, while being secured into talking.

"So?" her boss asked on a firm tone. Lisbon knew the black woman would see straight through her if she ever tried to smoother her feelings.

"I don't think she did it," she eventually said. Hightower glanced at her quizzically.

"Really? Why?"

Lisbon hesitated, then added quietly.

"I think Rouge Johnson did it."

"Lousia only mentioned the name of Red John."

"That's the nickname given by her employees at the Host club. We may have a witness. Crazy, but still, it's a beginning."

The brief smirk on Hightower's face told her more than she needed to voice. She was sharing her stream of thoughts.

"Melanie Morin won't be safe though."

"I can arrange that," the black woman said, a determined expression on her face.

While they discussed about the next actions to take, Lisbon had a brief thought for a certain blond man.

' _We're getting closer Patrick_.'

* * *

' **Georges' here is Coroner Steiner (first appearance The Scarlet Letter), the man Jane had assisted suicide in The Red Mile. Even though the two personalities clashed, I thought in another life they could have gotten along somehow...**


	10. Chapter 10

**Nathalie: Thank you! Hope you'll like this one too :)**

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **10.**

"You put an innocent girl behind bar!"

These were the first words Jane blurted out to her when he crossed the threshold, after she had opened the door to him. The blond man was angry as hell, and glaring at her with all his might. And Lisbon just wanted to relax a little this evening…

"How do you know about Morin's arrest?" she asked nevertheless; a little bit curious by his behaviour. "It was strictly confidential."

"I got my own resources and contact at CBI. Told me what happened. So why?" he asked almost aggressively.

The agent took note of this. So whoever was with Jane had to be at the office that night, and close enough to visualise an interview without being suspected of something, yet couldn't get into the full details of the case.

"We didn't put an innocent girl in jail," she eventually said. If possible, Jan's eyes flashed even angrier.

"You don't get it! This…this was Red John's doing! Not that girl!"

"I know," the agent merely replied, moving to her living room. She sat on her couch and picked up the glass of wine she had poured herself a few moments ago. Watching the imperturbable young man losing it was just SO entertaining.

"Then why did you…" His eyes suddenly narrowed, but no longer angry. They were rather wondering, as if asking a silent question. Lisbon smirked at this and took another sip of her glass before answering:

"I told you, we didn't put an innocent girl behind bars."

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on her, as if they could read right through her and have access to her every thought. An understanding glint passed in his eyes and she knew he got it. Indeed, she and Hightower had put a request on Witness Protection on Melanie Morin. Now, only three people in the CBI –Hightower, the Witness Protection responsible, and herself- knew where the young woman was hidden.

"All right," Jane replied, obviously cooled down. "Sorry for the…outburst. Guess I'll be going?"

Lisbon narrowed her eyebrows in surprise.

"You're not staying?"

"Why would I?" he asked, tilting his head on the side with a curious expression on his face.

"I thought you wanted to seduce me," she teased with a wink. She was a little tipsy due to the alcohol and only meant to taunt him. She should have known it would only add oil on fire.

"Do you want me to seduce you tonight?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Lisbon sighed and shook her head.

"Jane…"

"Patrick," he interrupted immediately.

"All right, _Patrick_ , let's make this clear. You are way too young for me and definitely not my type. So stop trying."

"Your denial will only make my determination stronger, you know that? One of my teachers always said 'What people secretly really desire is what they deny the first…plus you didn't seem to consider it stupid the other night," he added with a suggestive smile.

"I just got caught up in the move," she protested, frowning yet trying hard not to blush. "And the rest is bull. Your teacher is stupid."

"He's a coroner, and far from being stupid. Anyway, wanna watch a movie?" he eventually asked, pulling out a DVD from his back pocket, and added at her surprised look: "Yeah, I figured I needed a good reason to waltz into your apartment so I rented a movie."

He didn't wait for her answer, instead, put the disc in the player. Lisbon didn't protest in her slightly inebriated mind, and too tired to move from her seat. She had no plans for the night anyway, and a little diversion was always welcome. Despite liking being independent, she didn't feel like being alone tonight.

Jane walked back and let himself fall on the other side of the couch. Not too far, but close enough to let her know he was still there. His position was way enough for Lisbon. At least she wouldn't feel oppressed by his proximity.

It was obvious he had picked up something randomly, because neither Lisbon nor he had the slight interest in the movie. It was a dull comedy with some guy wanting to get his brother's girlfriend for himself, because he had been in love with her for ages and ages and….On her silent agreement; he took the monitor and put an end to their miseries. He then returned to the couch and turned to face her.

"Do you want to know why I want to court you?" he suddenly asked. Lisbon snorted in disbelief.

"You call that courting? I'd rather say invasion of privacy."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he replied with a grin, and she groaned and looked away. "So…You're beautiful, strong and stubborn. Despite your height, you can get very scary when you're annoyed and have authority over many men twice your size. Plus, you have a soft side you won't let people see, because you think it's a weakness. Even if this kind of reaction is a little stupid" she slapped his shoulder playfully, and he grinned in return. "It suits you, because somewhere, it's just so…you."

Lisbon didn't interrupt him, suddenly very busy staring at her carpet. She didn't like the way he pictured her. Like a strong yet vulnerable woman. She didn't like it. It made her feel…uneasy.

"Now, let's go to the physical aspect. I always thought my ideal woman was blond and tall yet lately, I am surprising myself in discovering a new liking in small brunettes." That cracked her a smile. "Plus, you have a really stunning, perfect body with perfect curves –and believe me, I have seen many women in m y line of work this past years." Now she didn't know if she had to blush scandalously or feel very insulted to be compared to the type of women he spoke about. "And before you reply something about this will never work because of the age difference, let me tell you numerous people marry with a gap of 20 years difference."

"That makes me feel so much better," she snorted, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Then, there's the fact you are genuinely attracted to me and," he cut before she could protest; "And, _most_ important, I like you."

At these words, Lisbon dared a quick glimpse at the man. His eyes were clear and honest, and she suddenly couldn't face him anymore.

"How is Brooke?" she eventually said to change subject; not wanting to say something stupid that would turn the situation even more in his advantage.

"Mash realised it would kill her to take away Matt –and he would get too much damage if he did," he replied as if she hadn't been trying to avoid a clear answer, if any was to be given. "He agreed to let her end her contract with me, but afterwards, she's back to live with him." A soft smile grew on his lips. "I think he wants to marry her, if only for their kid's sake. He's quite fond of little Matt, and I'm pretty sure he's in love with her in his own way."

"That's nice to know," the woman whispered with a soft smile. At least two persons were likely to find a happy ending.

The silence that ensued was filled with tension. Lisbon couldn't bring herself to look at him, and he didn't add anything, apparently deep in thought. When the clock eventually stroked eleven, he stood up and announced he would be leaving now. She followed him, offered him to call a cab –he declined, like always. Before she could close the door though, his fingers gently captured her chin and he leant to kiss the right corner of her mouth. The unexpected contact made her blush heavily and when he pulled back, he had that familiar cocky smile she wished she could be slapping away.

"See you later, Teresa," he whispered with a wink.

And she was left there, closing the door behind and putting the chain, incapable of shaking off the warmth growing within her body or wiping the stupid smile off her face.

 **-AH-**

It soon became a ritual. On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, he would be in her kitchen when she came home, cooking something for dinner. Then they would sit on her couch and watch a movie. When she came in very late, he had a warm bath ready to greet her. He never slept overnight, never attempted to seduce her again, aside from small touches and lingering glances. A few times, she thought he tried to kiss her, but he would say or do something that would turn completely decent and sooth her mind. And he wouldn't stay long afterwards, just enough to chitchat about his day, amuse her with anecdotes, occasionally talk about Rouge Johnson's moves or bring some files on her, or some evidence he had managed to snatch from her office and wanted to keep someplace safe.

His involvement in this case started to scare her a little. Despite the small conversation and the few moments they shared as friends, it stilled left her wondering how far he was really ready to go to catch Red John. When she dared ask about it, he would brush her questions away with a small shrug and apologetic look.

Most of the time, she was looking forwards for these evenings. A little bit too forwards, for her own liking; because the more she got to know him, the more she got accustomed to his presence. And the closer she got to him, also meant the closer he got to manipulate her.

She didn't like it.

 **-AH-**

That night, when she came home, Lisbon didn't close the door. She slammed it, and when it was still opened, kicked it close. Then she turned the locker and threw her staff on the ground, not caring where it would land.

"Hard day uh?"

She had almost forgotten it was Friday. There Jane was, sitting on her couch, observing her with piercing eyes. She ignored him and went in the kitchen, fully intending on taking some aspirin to lower her headache first. A new case had started the very morning, and had been closed about three hours later, after Cho found out about one of the suspect's antics.

Lisbon found the pills. Van Pelt had managed to trace down his location, but Agent Hayce, closer to the localisation, had managed to catch the information and intervene way before her screaming 'bloody murder' and thus, had hurt a few civilians on the way. Without arresting the murderer. It was Lisbon who found him running on the side road, auto-stopping. And then, Hayce put the blame on her for not being quick enough.

The woman almost threw the pills in her mouth and swallowed the water in the glass a little bit too fast. She and the sexist pig had a very loud altercation, her frustration getting the better of her, causing him to insult her explicitly, and her to punch him hard. Hightower had been forced to separate the two and threatened to suspend them both if they didn't stop behave like kids.

"Teresa?"

She put the glass back in the sink and sighed. The only positive point was that, despite trying to stay neutral, the black woman had sided with Lisbon and reprimanded Hayce for his impulsive behaviour. But now, the agent was sure he would start spreading rumours all over the place to get back at could possibly go even worst tonight?

"You're upset Teresa, tell me what's wrong."

Only then she realised Jane was standing behind her –rather closely, and had gently set his hands on her shoulders. When she didn't react, sneaked his arms around her waist. Lisbon stiffened at the contact. Jane dropped a tender kiss over her shoulder and repeated his request softly, his breath hot against her ear.

"Tell me."

Lisbon really wanted to break free. She didn't want to stay in this warm embrace. She didn't want to relieve in the feeling of his strong body holding her, breathe his scent and let herself melt in his hold. She didn't want to, but she still did and hated herself for it. It made her feel…weak and vulnerable. Lisbon closed her eyes when he kissed the same spot before releasing her enough to turn her around and hug her again. This time, she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed, knowing this was exactly what she wanted, and needed.

Someone to hold her after a long, tiring and eventful day, just for comfort.

His fingers started to draw circles on her lower back, but she didn't pay attention. Then, slowly, but surly, his hands started wandering over her hips. Lisbon was still too deep in her half-daze of self-loathing for letting him hold her yet appreciating his warmth to react strongly. It felt good to be hold like he held her. She hadn't been in anyone's arms since Sam, and still then, he never touched her so…caringly.

Then, his hand sneaked under her shirt and touched her skin. The warning bells rang loud in her head and she immediately jumped out of his grip.

"Fuck off!" she snarled. "What's with you?"

Jane blinked, but apparently didn't seem too surprised by her reaction.

"I told you I always get what I want," he replied smoothly. "And I want you."

"Why me anyway?" she muttered. "Can't you find someone else now Brooke is gone?"

Patrick stood up and took a step closer. Lisbon didn't take her eyes off him.

"Brooke has nothing to do with this. I was attracted to you with or without her around."

"Oh yeah?" she snarled, narrowing her eyes at him. "So all the previous nights were just there for the hunt? Until I would _give in?_ "

His face was still smiling, but the expression had become slightly more serious.

"I already told you, you are beautiful, inside and out. How can I not wish to know more about you or try something?"

"Do you spill this to all of your conquests?" she snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Only the ones who deserve it."

Lisbon shook her head.

"I'm going to take a shower. If you are still in this living room when I come back, I'm kicking you out myself. And perhaps I'm not a student in medicine, but I also know where it hurts."

 **-AH-**

The water had a weird effect on her, Lisbon thought. In front of a lake, large pound or whatever, she was terrified and paralyzed. In the shower, running down her muscles and slipping over her body, it felt soothing and comforting. After the past day, she wanted nothing more but to wash herself and crash bed.

Jane's half-confession had just put a definite end on her good mood. Not that she was such in good mood before, but the young man had managed to make her feel better before ruining the moment. It was just worst now. Even after all this time, he was still trying to…court her, as he said himself. She snorted, and turned off the water. After wrapping a large and comfy towel around her body, she stepped out of the bathroom and headed to her bedroom. Right now, she needed a good drink and a good sleep.

She pushed the door open and entered, determined on finding her large jersey before going down in the kitchen. When the door closed by itself, she had barely the time to turn that Jane had already crushed her against the wall with his full body, one hand pinning her wrists.

Lisbon almost rolled her eyes to herself. Of course, she should have known better than trust him to leave her alone.

"What the hell are you still doing here?"

He let the fingers of his free hand trail over her jaw lightly.

"Seducing you. Like it?"

Lisbon showed out her teeth. If she struggled to get out of his grip, her towel, only held by his chest crushing hers, would likely fall and his wandering eyes get a full view. Plus, she was barely stepping out of the shower. Her muscles were relaxed and disobeying her brain, and she had a hard time getting back in 'Agent mode' with the intense lustful gaze he was sending her. Brat, she thought, he had it all planned.

"I want you" he whispered against her neck and pressed his hips more against hers. Then, she felt _exactly_ how much he did. To her utter surprise, instead of disgusting her, it…turned her on. Oh man, she thought, she was in troubles.

"Still don't want to try me, _Teresa_?"

He bit her neck lightly, taking his time to suck a weak point he had found during their last make out session. As expected, her whole body reacted by tensing and relaxing simultaneously. Her throat vibrated at the soft moan she tried to bite back. Jane could almost _feel_ her resolve weakening second by second. Man, she was yielding so easily…it must have been a long time since a man had taken his time to seduce her…or she really needed a distraction from today's events. Whatever reason it was, he would take it in an eye blink.

"Still don't want to try me?" he asked again, mouth inches of hers.

Her eyes had considerably darken, her pupils dilated, lips parted, waiting – _begging_ \- to be kissed. Just a little more, he thought. A tiny little more, and…

"I'm not having sex with you, _Patrick,_ " she replied stubbornly; and it make him smirk. Her whole body's reactions were telling him a completely different story.

"Good," he whispered in her ear. "Cause I don't have ' _sex_ ' with my lovers. I _make love_ to them."

"Stupid arrogant bra-"

She was cut by his lips again. And this time, when his fingers caressed her abdomen and she unconsciously leant into his touch, Patrick knew he had won her. Her towel fell on the floor and their kiss deepened, sealing the deal. If only for this night, Teresa Lisbon was his to claim.

-AT-

Wayne Rigsby was a man of simple life; easy to be satisfied, as long as food and drinks and beautiful women were around.

At first, that was the reason he signed as a vigil at the Red Host Club. He only had to take advantage of his height and weight to scare off unfortunate husbands or brothers or friends running after the women that had just entered. As far as he was concerned, they were clients coming to fulfill a need of romance and it was their business if their companion couldn't carry out their desires.

The staff was nice enough. The guys were still guys, inviting him for a drink after hours and spilling about their days; the few girls working there were okay –even though Betty acted a little weird from time to time, she was still approachable. He had only really met his boss once, during the first interview. She and her two handymen, Jane and Dumar, were in the office, asking questions or observing his reactions. At first, he had thought Rouge was a bitch, Jane a buffoon, and Dumar a snail. Then, when he first started working with them, quickly realized his mistake. Jane was way smarter that he originally thought, Dumar an excellent bodyguard in manners of thinking and acting, and Miss Johnson? She was tough as nails. He had seen her negotiate with potential businessmen particularly influent and not back up or melt into hypocrisy.

One day, an agent approached him and told him about his boss's dirty little secrets. Illegal traffics, gigolos and whores, but he wouldn't buy it. Rouge Johnson was a businesswoman who had started an interesting commerce and too bad if this wasn't fitting the government's tastes. After all, these kind of…places were often seen in Japan and no-one had complained yet.

But then, he started to notice strange moves within the higher spheres. He saw Dumar slip out and run after a few people who were found dead shortly after. He overheard words of Miss Johnson over the phone he shouldn't have. And if Wayne Rigsby was a man of simple life, he was not stupid. So he had called back the agent and promised he would keep an eye open. Agreed to take a few risks, but not too many. He didn't want to end up like Paul or the others…

"Brooding over dark thoughts, are we Wayne?"

Mr. Jane's voice surprised him and the tall man glanced at the blond warily. His manager seemed in particular good mood this morning, given the wide grin and glint in the eye. It gave him a boyish-like expression, but he would never dare voice it out loud.

"Sorry sir," he replied, a little tensely. Jane shrugged.

"Just be careful not to catch Dumar's attention when you lack of it. You know, you _can_ take a sick leave if you don't feel well?"

Rigsby blinked in surprise. It wasn't in the blond man's habits to give deliberate hints or advices. Not that the man was a total bossy ass, but they rarely spoke about personal matters.

"Something good happened to you sir?" he eventually asked, unable to hide his curiosity. Jane shrugged again, this time a softer smile spreading on his lips.

Something good happening, in Patrick's mind, was a euphemism.

Sleeping with Lisbon had opened his eyes on his real attraction towards the woman. Never had he felt so drawn to someone. He was so eager to know more about her, to swipe away the anger he could sometimes read in her eyes and replace it by a smile or –like last night -raw pleasure. He couldn't remember feeling so…content, in a woman's arms. His greatest disappointment had been when the alarm had ringed, and he had to get up to rush to work. He wished he could have held her sleeping form a little more, burry his face in her hair to smell that cinnamon lotion of hers, caress those perfect curves, wake her up with a trail of kisses along her neck, take advantage of her sleepy state to worship that gorgeous body of hers and hear those soft moans that drove him crazy, roll her on her back, slid between her thighs and make love to her again.

"Keep this to yourself Wayne, but I think I hit the jackpot. She is the most incredible woman I have ever, ever met."

The tall man had a hard time keeping his frown back. Jane was falling for a woman? Weird thought. He always seemed so disinterested by their clients –and some were really, really great pieces of pie; Rigsby had somehow come to the conclusion the man was gay. The tall man had a nagging feeling about this, but kept that thought to himself and replied with a smile:

"Then I hope you will be able to keep her for a while."

He didn't know how to interpret the expression that appeared next on his face. A mixture of sadness, regret and…tenderness; as if he had found something he had been looking for a long time, yet couldn't put his hands on it.

"You have no idea how much I wish I could, Wayne." His eyes suddenly turned serious and he asked on an almost disinterested tone: "By the way, are you the one who tipped Agent Lisbon about the video Dumar trafficked the night of Paul's murder?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Guest:** Thanks! I mostly write for myself, reviews are just a really great bonus :) But glad you're enjoying this ^^

 **Sharon:** Uh…might have been my mistake. I update every 2 or 3 days –least I try ^^ Thanks for the review!

 **Guest 2:** Thank you :D

 **Nathalie:** Hee glad you liked it :3

* * *

 **The Agent in the Host**

 **11.**

A new case was fresh and opened, yet Lisbon couldn't get to concentrate. She was enraged. Utterly furious. A certain blond man didn't stop invading her mind, a certain previous night couldn't stop arousing her and make her body hum in ways it shouldn't, especially at _work_. She couldn't believe it. She had given in too easily and thrown herself at him in the end, and the mere memory of it only made her want more.

The previous night, the towel had barely hit the ground he was already all over her, his hand freeing her captured ones to roam over her body. Waist, collarbone, thighs, breasts, no part had been left unexplored while he kept her mind focused of those hot, tantalizing kisses over her mouth. Their making out had lasted the time she took to get him rid of his shirt and unbutton his pants, then, he had lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. After the best sex she had in years, they had gone to the kitchen to eat some Thai take out he had brought back. Then, using a momentary distraction, he had managed to pin her on the table and ravished her there, quieting her protests by covering her lips with his. Now, she was quite certain she would never be able to glance at the furniture without blushing furiously.

None of her previous lovers had ever…dared try this with her. Plus, it had been a back-killer. But the worst, or the best, depending on the point of view she guessed, was the third round, when they got back to her room. This time, she had been the one initiating the act by pushing him against the wall in the corridor and kissing his throat hungrily. They hadn't made it to the bedroom this time, roughly did it on the carpet, and now she had a great burn on her side.

Lisbon sighed again and shook her head. The man was still considered as the nightmare of Hightower –she had heard her boss cursing him a few times since her arrival at the CBI- and she was jumping him. Or had been jumping him. It wasn't going to happen again anyway, she would made _sure_ of it this time. Though if he started sucking that weak spot on her neck again, the one that made her knees feeble, while holding her like _that_ , pressed fully against his body –had she mentioned how well she fitted him?- could she even move from that embrace?

The agent groaned and let her head fall in her hands. She was screwed. The man was good in bed. Heck, he was great. He had been exactly what she needed. A distraction from her day with Hayce, and had brought comfort to her wounded pride. And…not only had he worn her out with the damn stamina he seemed to be filled with, but had made her feel…beautiful. That was the word. Beautiful and desired. And as much as she wanted to deny it, he _had_ made love to her. Even on that damn kitchen table. His touch and look in his eyes…

"Uh…boss?"

Van Pelt's voice tore her abruptly from her reverie. Not knowing if she had to thank or curse her, Lisbon cleared her throat, a little embarrassed to be caught during this particular moment.

"Yes Van Pelt?"

"I have to confess something," she started. "But…can you please not repeat it…repeat everything to Hightower?"

The hesitant tone of her younger agent made the woman frown; and she immediately knew she wasn't going to like it. So she nodded to the redhead to sit, leant back against her chair and crossed her arms.

"Depends on what you will say. I'm listening."

Van Pelt sat and played with her fingers nervously.

"Do you remember the man who gave us the tip, about Dumar's working on the video tape?" Lisbon nodded. "I know him. He works at the Red Host Club as vigil; his name is Wayne Rigsby. I know this because I…I approached him one day, on Hightower's demand. At first, he wasn't cooperative, but I still let him my number, just in case. He called me when he found about the video, and I…I pushed him to tell you. Mrs. Hightower had forbidden me to speak about me approaching the Club at the time and I didn't know what to do else."

The senior agent suddenly felt a huge wave of tiredness crashing upon her. Why did she have to find a connection to her case each time she had nothing more at hand? When she noted the younger woman was waiting for a reply, she grumbled:

"All right. What does it have to do with the case?"

"I got a call from him a few minutes ago. He asks for Witness Protection in exchange of giving Dumar and Johnson."

-AT-

Rigsby glanced around nervously. Even if he had seen his father, a biker belonging to a nasty group, in custody more than once, he had never thought he would be sitting inside an agent's office for a statement. The tall man sighed and tried to relax. Agent Van Pelt had assured him that Agent Lisbon was competent and would protect him, it didn't mean he had to believe her. As much as he wanted to help officers of the law, he didn't want to put his life in danger.

The door opened suddenly and the petite woman appeared in the threshold, a file in her hands. The first time he had seen her, Rigsby had wondered if she was as competent as the redhead had let him believe. But crossing her eyes and the determined and strong expression, he decided to stop making assumptions. Perhaps she was…small, but something in her straightness gave away she was much tougher than it seemed.

"Wayne Rigsby, I am Agent Lisbon."

He nodded. He had recognised her the moment she had entered the room. She sat on the other side of her desk and opened a file, ready to note down his declarations. Rigsby didn't waste any second more and spilled before she could even open her mouth:

"I can give you files, lists of underground activities, names…I hid them someplace safe because now I have nothing to lose. But you need to protect me!"

"I can guarantee you will be protected sir," Lisbon replied soothingly. "But I need to know where you have put these documents, and if they are authentic."

"Hundred per cent ma'am," he nodded immediately, a little relieved. "I stole them from Red John's –I mean Rouge Johnson's safe. I snatched the keys from their hiding spot and seriously, I'm in big troubles. I know…" Rigsby shifted uncomfortably on his seat as he added on a lower tone: "I know that I'm…I'm likely to be the next victim. I mean…I knew about her shady business but I didn't want to lose my job and now…now Dumar's on my trail; I could see it in his eyes."

Lisbon frowned.

"Why would he want your death? Didn't he know about your knowledge?"

"No, no he didn't. Or at least he didn't before Jane tipped him off today."

At the young man's name, the agent wanted to roll her eyes.

"What did that idiot do again," she muttered for herself, before clearing her throat and reporting her attention on the man. "Please, tell me what happened."

Rigsby nodded a bit energetically and went on:

"He asked me if I tipped you off about the video. Dumar was stepping nearby at the same moment and he stared at me in such a way…I knew I had to call Gra- I mean Agent Van Pelt and ask for her for help. I ran to the safe to steal something worth my security because I knew if didn't fall on the right agent, I would need something valuable to trade."

Lisbon nodded and replied seriously:

"You did well Mr Rigsby. I will talk to my boss for the program to be launched right away, but I need to know where you hid your evidence."

The tall man sighed in relief. Van Pelt seemed to be right about her not being under Miss Johnson's command. He pulled a paper out of his inside pocket and handed it to her.

"That's where I put everything." An address and a number –certainly a code, Lisbon thought, were written on the sheet. "And I sent a copy to a friend, telling him to get them back if I didn't call him back in the next few days."

Thought the woman was certain that last fact was a huge bluff, she nodded and slipped it in her pocket. She then informed him she would be recovering the items the very day and instructed him to wait until someone came to drive him to his new location. On her way out, she asked Van Pelt to keep an eye on Rigsby. Some part of her mind was absolutely not focused on the case though. As she headed to her boss's office, she couldn't help cursing mentally a certain blond man for his stupidity and, at the same time, smartness. They sure had a valuable witness now, but did he really need to tease the devil a little more than he was already?

 **-AH-**

Jane sneezed loudly. Sitting at the same desk next to him, a middle-height, muscular man grunted:

"Bless you."

"Thanks Dumar," the blond replied, wiping his nose in a tissue before throwing it in the closest garbage can. "Someone must be speaking ill of me."

His companion snickered:

"Must be the guys again. They were pissed you get to have Dolly. She's completely nuts but dude, she's freaking hot and rich."

The blond man laughed amusingly at his remark.

"Oh believe me, she did offer to see me out of the Club. But no thank you, she's way too creepy for me."

Then, his focus went back on the papers on the desk. It was his turn to take care of the mail and he hated it. Another letter of complain from a husband. Jane sighed and put it over the ten others he had been checking lately. He vaguely wondered if Rigsby would send a resignation letter.

"Oh, and rumours say you finally got a chick?"

Apparently, Dumar had overheard a little more than the mere inquisition with the tall man earlier. The blond man sighed and beamed:

"Yeah, something like that. She's some woman I picked up in a bar and God forbid but she is the best laid I ever had in years."

"Do you mind introducing me to her one day?" his colleague asked with a sly grin. Jane chuckled and shook his head.

"No way Dumar. I am intending to keep her for myself for a while."

"Man, you're no fun."

"Nope, I just have ethics," Jane replied mockingly. Dumar shook his head in disbelief and went back to work. a few minutes passed before the silence was broken again:

"Just don't leave the Club because of a woman," the muscular man said. His tone was light, but the underline of a threat was clearly audible in Jane's ears. "You saw what happened to Paul."

"Yeah, sad accident. I think I will always remember the day he slammed the door, insulting Red John on his way out. The boss was ready to send the police after him. I think it was wise of her not to."

"Yeah, no bad publicity," the man replied grumpily. "I would have loved to smash his head against the wall that day."

"You did it later anyway," Jane replied nonchalantly. "I just hope the poor guy didn't suffer too much."

Dumar stilled in his writing and glared at the blond man.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jane glanced at him before shrugging and opening a new letter.

"Never mind Dumar. Just be careful, CBI is watching this place more and more carefully."

His sentence had the desired effect. The man looked slightly nervous and had a hard time concentrating afterwards. If he managed to turn nervous the closest asset Red John had, then it wouldn't take long before he made a mistake. A huge mistake he hoped would be the beginning of the end.

 **-AH-**

It was dark when Jane pushed her bedroom door. Lisbon was sleeping soundly, curled in her sheets like a kitten, a peaceful expression over her face. The young man smiled briefly. Perhaps he shouldn't wake her up now, especially after the long day she must have had, taking Rigsby's statement and collecting and analysing the evidence. He took off his vest and his shoes and headed towards the bed.

She didn't stir in her sleep. Now he felt a bit guilty being so selfish; sneaking in her house at this hour of time to test her mood and try to bed her again. The blond man smiled tensely before making up his mind. He leant over her to brush her temple, then picked up his vest again and headed to the door.

"What are you doing here?" a sleepy voice asked him.

Jane walked back to the bed and knelt next to her lying figure, close to her face. Her lids were barely opened, heavily blinking to wake up. The light kissed must have waken her up.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," he whispered, his right hand wandering over her cheek. When she didn't push the contact away, he figured it was a good sign but didn't tempt the devil more. "I'll leave now."

But she wasn't done with him yet. She caught his wrist a little forcefully before asking:

"Why did you put that man in deliberate danger?" No need to precise _who_ was the 'man'. "You knew he could get killed from the moment you asked that question."

Jane merely shrugged.

"Someone has to give Johnson, but it can't be me. I'm a mere actor in the whole scheme, not the hero. I just want justice to be brought. I don't want to become a tag for potential revengeful partners in turn."

"So you drew an innocent man to be your shield and avoid doubts being laid on you."

"Rigsby would have done it eventually. Plus, he is more than capable of taking care of himself."

Lisbon rested on her elbow and frowned at him, no longer sleepy. The young man could definitively spot the displeasure in her eyes and couldn't help but think she was extremely…sexy in that large jersey she wore for the night. Damn, he chided himself, he really was turning into a first class pervert.

"Oh really?" she replied, snorting in disbelief. Jane couldn't restrain a grin.

"Sure. He has a soft spot on Van Pelt since the moment he met her. And he is a good man, I only gave him a little push."

"Do you know you're a jerk?" Lisbon snarled straightening in her bed and sitting on the board of the mattress, her bare legs close to his face. She didn't really mind. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her naked before. "And that's the most pitiful excuse I must have heard in my career! You are just a coward, using people to get to your end with no moral! This is nothing like pulling back and leaving the front stage to someone else! This is just running away!"

Jane's face tensed, and she felt she had hit a nerve. He stood up and took a few steps back. From her sitting place, Lisbon realised how tall her really was; but she wasn't intimidated. He didn't scare her, and both knew she could take him down anytime. Even in jersey.

"I know what I am doing," he replied dryly.

"Even if it puts an innocent man's life in danger?"

The blond man narrowed his eyes at her accusation.

"So you really think it is fun for me, to watch people _die_ because of me?"

Lisbon frowned in turn and glared at him.

"Shall I add self-centred to your list of defaults?" she snarled. "Not everyone chasing Red John dies because of you."

Jane snorted in turn and shook his head.

"And what about the six agents that died after chasing unofficially Rouge Johnson? I tipped them off." His voice lowered, and she could hear the hints of sadness and guilt underneath. "I connect dots, I solve enigmas but I am no cop. I knew they were capable agents, and they were good people. I knew their background file by heart each time I approached them. I manipulated them into my schemes," he smirked bitterly. "You did call me an arrogant brat, jerk and coward. I'd rather say deceiving bastard."

Lisbon closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to keep her cool. Discussing with Jane had always been tiring, she knew it, but if he decided to go a little deeper into confessing his feelings, she didn't know how she would handle it. The woman had never been good in open-hearted conversations; even less listening to others spill their emotions. According to his shining eyes, Jane was being truthful with her. Perhaps more truthful than he had been with anyone lately; and she had no clue how to face this.

However, something did make her react:

"Did you know me, before we met at the Club? Was that why you busted me so easily?"

Jane shrugged.

"Yes, and no. We already came across each other three years ago. You were discussing with a colleague and I was being brought in for an interrogation."

Three years prior, she remembered, she was in San Francisco, working in Bosco's unit. The memory of the bald man tightened her heart but she shrugged the uneasy feeling aside to concentrate on the numerous cases she had indirectly witnessed at the time. She had met many people, some she remembered better than others, during her cases, encountering witnesses and victims and murderers…

Then it hit her.

"You were Angela Ruskin's boyfriend," she whispered. "They thought _you_ were the killer."

Jane's eyes darkened and she knew she had hit the score. The murder had been one of the most gruesome she had ever seen, and she had been glad not to be on it. Two women had been found on a desert street; the first one raped and tortured to death, the second one was covered with cuts and found in a strange position. A little bit like…The agent sighed, knowing why she had found the position of Paul's body vaguely familiar.

"She was pregnant with my kid," the young man went on, his voice barely holding back the rising anger. "I was going to propose to her within the week, but she was killed by Red John before. You have no idea how angry…"

His words died and he took a deep breath before staring at her straight in the eyes.

"I took over the case one of my mentors was working on. You are right, I _am_ a coward. Attacking her up front would only cause me troubles and I didn't want to end up in jail like my father, but I couldn't let her free either. That's why I asked for help each time. I asked for reliable people, and he gave me the list of reliable names. I don't regret my decisions up till now, but…" his voice lowered so much Lisbon had to lean forwards to actually hear him speak: "I still see their empty eyes at night. I…" He shut up and she suddenly stood up and stepped closer.

Despite his confessions, Lisbon felt she couldn't really get angry at him. Somewhere, she felt it was whoever gave him that list and pushed him to investigate on Rouge Johnson that was to blame. His 'mentor' as he called him had just used him to continue his search on the woman, and she hadn't realised how much of a burden it must have been.

"Hey," she whispered, cupping his cheeks with both hands. "It's going to be fine. We will catch her." He was avoiding her gaze. She forced him to face her. His eyes were still shinny because of gleaming tears and she bit her lower lip, not knowing how to appease him. For some reason, she didn't like to see him…sad.

His next move caught her off guard. He closed the distance between them and hugged her. His face buried in her neck and his arms sneaked around her waist, bringing her body even closer to his. Lisbon was tempted to push him away, but a small detail made her rethink her action. He was shaking.

"I want this to end," she head him whisper. "I'm getting tired."

Hearing those words, she could only hug back and hope dearly this wasn't another trick from his part.


	12. Chapter 12

**Guest 1:** Thank you :D !

 **Nathalie:** You shall see :)

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **12.**

"Hey Jane!"

The young man tore his eyes away from his screen and glanced at the doorway. Dumar was standing in the threshold, smirking at him. He stepped closer and rested his hand on the corner of the desk his colleague was currently sitting in front of.

"Boss wants to see you in her office now," he whispered before adding with a smirk: "Guess you screwed up something; she wasn't pleased."

Jane sighed heavily and nodded.

"I get it. Tell Red John I'll be right there."

"She said _now_."

He glanced at the older man. Dumar's eyes had lost every glint of amusement he could have read previously. Jane frowned –that was not a good sign- and sighed.

"All right, all right, no need to be so uptight. Let me close this and I'll be right behind you."

Dumar stared at Jane, as the young man carefully saved the last data he had entered in the program.

"How much time?" the tall man snapped.

"Meh, if you want the correct number on your pay check, let me close this right. I don't want anyone sneaking in my computer and mess up with the salaries."

The older man sighed impatiently and glance around the room to kill time. Still working on saving and closing the programs properly, Jane's left hand sneaked under his desk and discreetly caught the mobile phone hidden underneath. He typed a few words on a text and sent it before sneaking his hand out of under the desk and back on the keyboard. Once his manipulation was done, he shut it and stood up.

"I'm all set. Let's go see the big boss!"

In the CBI office, a cell phone rang, signalling the reception of a text.

 **-AH-**

Lisbon was typing a report when Hightower irrupted in her office and blurted:

"Agent Lisbon, take your weapon. We're getting in the Red Host Club with a warrant."

The senior agent barely had the time to blink; the black woman was out of the door, giving orders to the rest of her team. She grabbed the gun in its holster and put it around her waist before stepping out to join her people. Her boss's words had barely made it through her mind that the excitement was already gaining her. They finally had the AG's approval to pay a visit to that woman. About time.

"What Rigsby gave us eventually convinced Bertram," Hightower explained to her agent on the way to the car. "He used his connexions to pressure the AG into giving that damn paper, and I swear we will only have one opportunity."

Nothing was said during the ride to the Red Host Club. Both Cho and Van Pelt seemed to be digesting the news, and Lisbon couldn't shake Patrick out of her mind. She was wondering what he was doing at this very moment, if he would have some time in prison –given he had known about her activities, and what he would do once Red John was arrested. Go back home was the most obvious solution, but she didn't know if she really wanted it. Her thoughts were interrupted when they parked in front of the Club. All agents stepped down and headed towards the entrance door. Lisbon led the others directly up to Betty. The blond woman plastered another wide smile when she spotted the few agents coming closer.

"Good morning agents. How can I help you?"

"Where is Miss Rouge Johnson's office," Hightower attacked immediately. Betty's smile fell right away.

"D…do you have a warrant?"

Cho showed up right by her side and unfolded the said paper. Betty glanced at it with shaking hands.

"Rouge Johnson's office, Betty. Please" Lisbon took over on a more civil tone. The blond woman nodded and picked up her phone, dialled a number and babbled:

"B –Betty here. Can you tell Mr Jane to come down please? He's not…Oh, he's with Miss Johnson right now? Of course, I understand. Yes, sure. Thanks sweetie. Please follow me" she added, putting down the phone.

The four agents stepped behind the shaking blond woman, Hightower and the two other agents in a hurry, but Lisbon's thoughts were elsewhere. When she had heard Jane's name being pronounced, and him being in the boss's office, she felt a knot in her stomach. Like her guts were warning her something was going to turn horribly wrong. Betty eventually stopped in front of a large door and was about to knock when Hightower stopped her and knocked instead.

"Miss Johnson! CBI, we need to talk!"

When no reply was heard, both Hightower and Lisbon drew their weapons. No risks were needed, and Lisbon had heard enough about that woman from Jane to make sure no-one would be put in danger. The black woman turned the handle and pushed the door open at once. Cho entered first and lowered his weapon almost immediately.

"Clear. It's empty ma'am."

The black woman turned towards Betty and narrowed her eyes:

"Where is Johnson?" she barked. "Answer me now!"

"I…I don't know ma'am!" Betty replied, on the verge of tears. "She was here this morning I swear!"

The black woman sighed angrily and turned towards the others:

"Search in the building. If she is still here, I want her brought up tonight!"

But the searches were useless. There was no sign of the boss of the Club, nor of her two known right arms. As if they had just vanished out of nowhere.

 **-AH-**

Three days had passed since the warrant. Rigsby respected his word and had given them every single element susceptible to nail his boss. In fact, if she provided the evidence Jane had also brought at her place, Lisbon knew if Red John was caught, the woman was off for a long time behind bars. The only dark spot preventing her to fully enjoy the turn of event was Jane's disappearance. She hadn't heard from him since the night he had come to seek comfort in her arms, and even Brooke had called to ask her if she had any idea where the blond man could have disappeared.

The senior agent sighed and closed the door of her apartment. Perhaps she should put a search warrant on his head? She just hoped he hadn't fallen into Red John's claws, or escaped in another state without telling her. She felt worried. Despite him a real pain in the butt, she did like him a little. Just a little. He was good company when not trying to charm her and no doubt she would miss him the day he would leave…

Something moving in her living room caught her attention and made her draw her weapon immediately. Last time she had let her thoughts wandering for too long, she had found herself in the bottom of a boat and almost got drowned. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Stepping cautiously the long of the corridor, she spoke loudly when coming closer to the source of noise:

"Come out, whoever you are. I am armed."

"Don't shoot please," was the immediate reply, and Lisbon's eyes widened in surprise when she recognised her intruder.

"Patrick?"

The blond man smiled weakly, hands up.

"Hi Teresa."

The agent sighed in relief and lowered her weapon; but didn't put it back yet. The nagging feeling of something being just plain…wrong wouldn't leave her alone. The young man lowered his arms as well and couldn't help but smile.

"Always with the gun, uh?" he teased quietly. The agent eyed him quizzically. Usually, he would make much more fun of her so-called paranoia, wink or make a smart comment of her looking dominant with her gun –he had done it before.

"What's wrong with you Patrick? And where have you been these last days? A phone call would have been nice."

She took a step closer and Lisbon had a hard time biting back a gasp; his right eye had taken a punch and his lower lip was cut open. There was no blood, but it was obvious the cut had been made recently.

"I got into a fight," he muttered in response to her unasked question. "Red John forced me to follow her after you busted the establishment. I managed to run away yesterday." He shrugged with an ashamed expression on his face. "Sorry," he added with a whisper. "I had nowhere else to go."

Lisbon put her gun back in its holster and stepped closer to him. Whoever had beaten him had done a number.

"Are you hurt somewhere?" she asked, scanning his body up and down, as if trying to figure out more injuries by a first or second glance.

"Nothing that I couldn't tend myself," he replied with a soft smile. His hand took hers and kissed its back gently, lids closing when his lips came in contact with her skin. "Thank you for asking."

The brush made her shiver and she didn't fight when he suddenly leant to kiss her lips. He wasn't as gentle then, rather hard and aggressive his free hand slipping behind her head to keep her there and deepened it even more. Lisbon let him do, feeling the now familiar warmth spreading in her lower stomach. She wouldn't admit it under torture, but she did like it when he took control. And despite having slpet with him only once, she had…missed him.

Missed the way his hands would cup her hips and pull her closer to him, missed his hungry mouth over her neck, missed his nimble fingers toying with her top and undressing her so easily. Missed the lustful, longing eyes, his magical hands, his skin against hers, his caresses, his groans of pleasure, his scent, his unique technique to make her lose control and scream in delight even against the wall of her own corridor. His blue eyes never left hers, his strong arms supported her, and his lips kept on kissing deeply, swallowing her moans. Her fingers toyed with his blond curls, and as Lisbon tired hard to pick up her breath, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. His soft, hot breath blew on her face and she smiled bitterly, knowing he had definitely sneaked inside her life, and would be a pain to get rid off. Not that she wanted to get rid of him, especially not now.

"Feeling better?" he asked, a gentle smile growing over his lips. She smiled back and kissed him lightly. Damn, how affectionate she could become after mind-blowing sex. "I'm sorry I worried you."

The corner of her mouth dropped slightly and she shook her head.

"Don't ever leave without giving me a call first, okay?"

He smiled weakly and pecked her lips in silent agreement. Then, he let go of her and both got dressed again before heading towards the kitchen.

"What are you going to do, if Johnson gets caught and is sent to jail?" she asked, taking out a mug, then quickly glanced at him to silently asked if he wanted anything. Jane shrugged.

"I don't know yet. And yes please, I'm going to make myself some tea."

The preparations done, they headed towards the living room and sat on the couch. Not knowing what to do or say, Lisbon just drank her coffee in silence and watched the black screen of her TV. Jane's silence surprised her. She had expected him to be a little more…talkative after the recent events, or taking the initiative for whatever subject. Her lids felt heavy. It had been a long day, she thought, nodding off. She closed her eyes a short moment before forcing them open. Wait. She wasn't supposed to feel dozy now, especially not after a coffee.

"Patrick…" she started as her mind got blanker and blanker. The young man turned towards her but didn't act surprised. On the contrary, his eyes held an apologetic glint.

The obvious slapped her hard. He had been in her place way before she came in. That left a huge amount of time to drug…he knew her habits. He knew she would drink her coffee after work. When he reached out to stabilize her body when she almost slipped from the couch, Lisbon couldn't even push him away. The betrayal burned in her veins as she fought to keep her eyes open, and cursed herself for being so stupid to trust him. The last thing she saw before completely passing out, was the figure of a redhead in the doorway, arms crossed, the satisfied smirk plastered on her face and her last words:

" _Well done Patrick."_


	13. Chapter 13

**Guest:** Hee thanks!

 **Sharon:** Well, hope this chapter answers some of your questions!

 **Nathalie:** I try to keep things interesting. Glad it seems to work ^^

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **13.**

Lisbon had been a cop for quite a while now, but she couldn't remember such a painful awakening. Her limbs hurt and she wondered who had the great idea to use a hammer on her. What had happened already? The last thing she remembered was going home after another long case, feeling tired and upset about something and then…

 _Patrick._

The young man had been there, in her apartment, waiting for her to show up. He had shown her traces of beating over his body, then kissed her, then they had sex against her wall and then…the kitchen. The cup of tea, and coffee. Then the feeling of drugs…Drugs. Yes, now she remembered. Jane had drugged her. And in the background…

 _Well done Patrick._

Sneaky little bastard! She though angrily. He had opened her door to Red John, and now she didn't have the faint idea of where she could be…or what he had given her for the matter. Opening her eyes was a huge battle in itself and she felt like sleeping over and over again. She quickly realised her hands were tied in her back –no wonder she was in pain- and the environment was humid and quiet. She was lying on some cold stone, wearing the same clothes before she lost consciousness. The darkness was also relevant, and made it easier for her to keep her eyes open. It didn't last long though. The door suddenly opened, bringing in a huge amount of light and making her eyes shut instantly. It hurt too much to face something bright, as faint as it seemed to be.

She was covered by the shadow of something, and she heard footsteps approaching. Someone crouched next to her, and a hand cupped her cheek. The gentle move was now familiar, and Lisbon recognised immediately the scent.

"I'm sorry."

Jane knelt next to her and she felt his hands gently caressing her hair. Lisbon had the urge to cry, though she knew she would never allow him to witness such a weakness from her part.

"I'm sorry Teresa," _Don't call me by my name!_ She thought angrily. "I had to do this." _Shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses!_

The young men kept on apologizing and touching her head. Each time his fingers came in contact with her hair, Lisbon felt sick. How could she not see through his game? How could she not realise who he really was? Why did he have to pretend to be such a charming jerk? Why did he have to seduce her? _Why did SHE have to start to like him?_

"I hope you can forgive me one day," he whispered again. "But I swear I won't let you die here."

She shut her lids tightly when he kissed her forehead and tried to sneak out of his grasp. Useless. Her body felt weak and heavy, and she couldn't even find the strength to speak. Tears started to be more insistent, pearl on the corner of her eyes. His hand, gentle hand, gentle caressing, belonged to a traitor. And she, like an idiot, had fallen for it.

Jane leant closer and kissed her temple, then lowered to her cheek and his lips lingered there.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her skin. "I never wanted this to end up this way…you should be fine though."

"I think I left you enough time to say good-bye Patrick."

Jane pulled back and Lisbon realised a red-haired woman was standing near the door of the small room, arms crossed and watching them attentively. Her thin frame, tight clothes emphasised her curves and if she narrowed her eyes, the senior agent could spot an eye-patch covering her eye. So this was the infamous Rouge Johnson?

"Sorry ma'am," the young man said, not taking out his hand from her hair yet. "I'm quite fond of her."

The redhead snorted.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all. Remember our deal kid, either you kill her right now or I will. And I think you have enough material on me to know exactly _how_ I proceed" she added with a smirk.

Jane's body tensed and Lisbon couldn't help but shiver at her words. She knew too how the woman operated. When she had read the young man's files on the other dead bodies, it had made her feel sick for hours and uneasy for days. Sexual abuse, then light cuts all over the body, then a deeper one opening her stomach and…

"Yes I do," Jane replied, and his voice was dead serious. "But why can't you lean me a knife or a gun? It's not like you don't have a few spare ones unlicensed."

Red John laughed out loud.

"Really, Patrick, someone as smart as you is asking me that stupid question? I don't want to take the chance of you…attacking me afterwards. I'm doing you a favour by letting you end agent Lisbon's life yourself, remember? Plus, after you feel her life leaving her body, perhaps you'll understand how…powerful it makes you feel. Having the complete control over someone, no matter his strength, age, gender or so-called purity…it's…" the woman breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly: "Simply the most wonderful feeling in the world. Now," her tone was back to business. "Kill her."

Jane didn't move.

"You want to put the blame on me," he added quietly. "You want to find out who sent me to go after him or her."

The woman sighed, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know that old Minelli coached you, kid. He's the reason why I decided to settle down and retire for a while, you know? Always pocking his nose in my business, and I admit he did a pretty good job in handicapping me sometimes. You did too by the way," she added nonchalantly. "Sending agents again and again on my trail, I couldn't do a single wrong step, or they'd jump at me like hungry dogs after a bone. I couldn't get to kill anyone myself before a very long time…I am curious though," she suddenly added with a hint of curiosity. "Who helped you out digging information from time to time? That old fool wasn't the only one dropping hints, wasn't he? Who was your informant?"

Lisbon noted Jane's clenched hands, and realised Johnson was talking about Brooke.

"Do you know who it is, Agent Lisbon?"

The dark-haired woman realised Red John was addressing to her and knew instantly the killer had not been aiming at Jane when she had asked her question. Lisbon didn't move though, determined not to spill a work about the younger woman.

"If you don't tell me, I will kill that little one…" the redhead added smoothly. "What's his name already? Matthew?" Lisbon felt sick at her amused tone. "You know, Patrick ex-girlfriend's kid. I'm sure she'd be delighted to learn her child is dead because of you."

The senior agent didn't know what to do. If she gave Brooke, the woman with the pleased smirk would kill her in a blink of the eye. If not, an innocent child would take the blame. Red John would carry on her threats; Lisbon had dealt with too many criminals to recognise a bluff or no. And this woman had obviously killed in cold blood before. Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded through her jaw and she couldn't bite back a pained scream. She wished she could have held her face, but the ropes prevented her from any move, and all she could do was half-sob in hurt. Jane had just punched her at the juncture, and certainly cracked the bone. Despite the pain, Lisbon knew she wouldn't be able to articulate anything anymore without medical attention. She wouldn't die either, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt like Hell.

"I'm sorry," she heard him babble, his voice shaking. "I can't take the risk."

Oh how much she wanted to hit him right now. Torture him, make him swallow his tongue or cut every body part into pieces. Whatever would make her feel better. The scene seemed to amuse Red John even more, as she picked up a cigar and lightened it with a swift movement of the wrist.

"Typical of Minelli's training," the redhead snorted. "Silence whatever person who might blow up your cover. Never thought you'd hit your girlfriend though. You, Patrick, are full of surprises."

"Shut up!" he snapped, and Lisbon saw the glint in his eyes, screaming he was about to lose control. But something was holding him back and she couldn't help but be intrigued. He was facing the infamous killer he had been chasing after for three years. He could have tried something desperate against Red John, yet had agreed to kidnap her and even tried to get along with the woman's plans. The way he had spoken of Rouge during their friendly nights always made her shiver, but him obeying so far made no sense.

Suddenly, there was a loud 'BANG' and someone shouted in the afar. Johnson turned to glance behind her. A few shots were exchanged, someone screamed in pain, and numerous footsteps were heard. The woman's face fell and she turned towards the two others.

"You were buying time, weren't you dirty little worm!" she spat at Jane, her eyes narrowing at him. The young man didn't blink, merely stared attentively at her gun. "You are even sneakier than your master, Patrick Jane. Be sure I will come back for you! But in the meantime…"

Red John aimed at Lisbon and started pulling the trigger.

"I'm taking her life."

 **-AH-**

The sound of machines beeping repetitively was starting to wear out Brooke's patience. She was standing in the hospital corridor with Walter, waiting for her son to be checked out, when ambulances had arrived and she had spotted familiar silhouettes among the newly wounded. After leaving her boy's father deal with the paperwork after the spinal cord transfusion, she had hurried to get some news from a nurse she knew. And they weren't good.

So here she was, standing there, waiting with anguish along with three other people in the room. The three others –aside from one, Jane's "man" in the CBI- had no idea why she was there. The woman couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Jane's web was linking almost every person having a word on the Rouge Johnson case, yet no-one knew. Had she not been asked for a few…missions, as delivering Katie to the airport safely, she would have never known who Jane's mole was. Yet, it was thanks to that spy, that both Lisbon and Jane were still alive.

A nurse appeared in the corridor and announced:

"Anyone for Miss Lisbon?"

The three agents rose and Brooke cast an attentive eye at the upcoming statement.

"Miss Lisbon will be fine. She just has a dislocated –and fractured jaw, but it'll be back in place in no-time. The blood that was found all over her shirt belonged to the young man accompanying her though."

At these words, the young woman stood up and joined them, all thoughts of prudence thrown away.

"How is he? The young man," she asked on a firm and demanding tone. Three pair of eyes stared at her with curiosity and the nurse announced:

"He was shot twice in the back and the bullets were stuck in the lunges. I'm sorry, but I cannot say if he'll make it."

Brooke shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. Waves of worry and anguish started to shake her, but she needed to keep those feelings down for the moment. She was known for the iron control she had over her body, and even hearing about Patrick, one of her rare…sort of friends, being hurt must not shake her. The fool, she thought. She wasn't a forensic, but she didn't need a map to be explained that the man had probably jumped in front of Lisbon while…whoever was holding the gun was shooting at her.

 _Damn idiot_.

"Thank you ma'am," she replied, proud of the non-trembling of her voice, before turning heels and walking away.

She needed fresh air. Now. Because despite claiming and repeating herself he had nothing to do in her business, she would never forgive herself if she didn't find a way to thank him before vanishing from his life. Jane had been there when she needed someone and had helped her out in many ways, and Brooke was well-placed to know how much the young man needed other's acknowledgment. A few traitorous tears slide along her cheeks before she wiped them away swiftly. She needed to keep her mind clear from now on. Crying would not help Patrick, and now she needed to find out what had become of Red John. At his awakening –and she forced her mind to refuse an alternative- he would need to be precisely informed of the situation. And if he couldn't carry on, Brooke would make damn sure he hadn't wasted three years of his life in vain.

She owed him that much after all.


	14. Chapter 14

**I forgot to mention earlier, the story will have 21 chapters...you've still have stuff to read for a while xD**

 **Nathalie:** As if I could turn Jane against Lisbon! xD Thanks for the review :)

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **14**

Lisbon hadn't thought she would want to face Jane again. She didn't think she would feel the urge to cross his eyes again, or to glance at his silhouette or anything from him. The man had _broken_ her jaw to keep her quiet about Brooke and Matthew for God's sake! Okay, the fracture was well done and easily healable –a matter of weeks according to the doctors and she' would be as good as new, but still!

Back there, Rouge Johnson had pulled the trigger aiming at her, and the idiot had jumped in front of her to get the bullets. The killer had run away just in time before Cho and Van Pelt irrupted in the room, followed by a SWAT team and all of their rifles. Hightower had called an ambulance, and after her admission, she had heard that the man named Dumar had been shot down trying to protect his boss.

The agent sighed and glanced again at the room number 205. Since that day, meaning about two weeks previous, Jane had been in a coma. Her jaw was healing slowly and she could articulate almost normally now. The woman tightened her fists. She had many reasons to be mad as hell at him –and she sure was- but the feeling was replaced with worry each time she'd think about him. As angry as she was, she did not want him dead. Deep down, Lisbon knew he had only acted according to what he thought was best. Didn't mean she would forgive him easily.

She made up her mind and pushed the door open. Inside, two beds were set side by side, occupied by a comatose patient. Patrick Jane was laying in the bed the closer to the window. Lisbon hesitated a moment before stepping closer. His face was covered by a mask and wires connected to a machine were maintaining him alive, bringing blood in his system. Despite her frustration, the woman felt the pang of pain within at the sight. His usual shining eyes were closed, his skin pale, and she decided the white outfit did not suit him. Lisbon sat in the free chair next to his bed and took his hand. It was colder than usual. Dead-like. The agent breathed in deeply and tightened her grip on his hand. It remained unresponsive. And the motionlessness made her feel…strange. She wasn't used to him being so quiet.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" she whispered, rubbing her thumb over his cold wrist. "You're an idiot Patrick."

"Tell me when he isn't."

Lisbon glanced over her shoulder and recognised Brooke standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Her figure seemed composed, but her hands were clenched on her handbag. The dark-haired woman smiled briefly at the newcomer and turned back her attention on the quiet young man. Brooke walked up to the bed in turn and stood there.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Lisbon blinked at her in surprise.

"Why?"

"Jane broke your jaw because of me –or so I guess that's what happened," Lisbon didn't reply, and the young woman took it for a yes. "He had warned the CBI about your possible abduction, but we didn't react fast enough. Things tend to get disorganised when Patrick isn't around; so I came to apologize in the name of everyone working on the case in the shadows." She paused a moment, before adding softly: "How is he?"

The agent sighed in annoyance. It wasn't the young woman who decided to drug and abduct her, even less punch her. Jane did. Did he fear she would talk? Did he trust her so little? Sure, breaking her jaw was the best way to turn her silent, but still.

"His body is healing, but he hadn't shown signs of waking up yet," Lisbon eventually replied. "They are optimistic though."

Brooke sighed in relief and closed her eyes. She stood silent a few moments before opening her bag and handing over a file containing papers to Lisbon.

"I made a few researches right after I heard what happened to you two," the informant started. "Here are the last moves I managed to gather from Rouge Johnson in the last few days. She is heading towards the frontier, so you better hurry if you want to catch her before she leaves the country."

The agent took the file and opened it for a quick glance. A list of places and hotels and other details were neatly listed, accompanied with pictures and handwritten notes. Lisbon couldn't believe how detailed the report was. The younger woman must have spent hours on it.

"Don't tell anyone you got them from me," Brooke warned seriously. "This is so far all I could get from my contacts and given they know what she has done now, they aren't too keen in investigating on her anymore. I'll keep an eye around, but that's all I can do."

Lisbon glanced at her with a certain awe.

"Thank you," she whispered. "It's…incredible good work. But don't you get paid for your services?" she added, slightly puzzled.

Brooke snorted.

"Jane paid me to work for him till Red John was dead or behind bars. Catch that bitch, that's all I'm asking for. I need to pick up Matthew," she added, signalling she was now leaving. "Farewell, agent Lisbon."

One thing she had to admit was that the young man knew how to pick his associates. Loyal and respecting, despite he had kidnapped and physically harmed an agent of the law. Yeps, Lisbon thought as Brooke disappeared in the corridor, it wouldn't be wise to have him for enemy.

 **-AH-**

Two months had passed before Lisbon heard the young man had been released from the hospital, but she hadn't gone to visit him. She hadn't tried to call to get some news and bypassed the places she was susceptible to encounter him. Her jaw was nicely healed now but she was still too pissed at him to talk to him directly. Plus, his involvement in the Rouge Johnson case did not help her forget what he had done to protect his…followers. Since Brooke's visit and despite the new elements she had brought in, they hadn't been much improvement. At least, the woman's portrait was everywhere and the customs officers had been warned of her profile.

The agent sighed and let herself fall on the couch of her living room. That bitch was extremely skilful to be still running around, or certainly had good friends well-placed. Jane had understated that she even had a mole at CBI. He had one too, and frustratingly enough, she didn't manage to spot either of them. No-one stood out of place, or acted any differently when the case was mentioned. It unnerved her sometimes.

She let herself fall on the couch of her living room and sighed. At lease, today had been a successful day in handling suspects. Two murder cases solved the same day, congratulations from the big boss, and sent home earlier and off for the week-end. Her team had beaten so far the rate of solved case in record time, and she knew she should be proud. It was just the Red John thing that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

The front door rang and Lisbon stood up reluctantly. Whoever was ringing better had a good reason to do so; she didn't want her half-good mood destroyed by some upcoming problems. When she glanced through the peephole though, she was left stunned. The familiar silhouette of the blond young man made her grimace. The woman knew that if she didn't make the first move, he would show up at some point. And as relieved as she was for him being fine, she still didn't want to confront him now; although his presence here meant he wasn't intending to leave without addressing a few words to her.

Sighing in resignation, Lisbon opened the door. He was standing there, hands in his pockets, eyeing around with apparent uneasiness.

"What are you doing here?" she asked dryly. His tight smile didn't waver, but the expression in his eyes did tell he knew he was playing with fire.

"I was passing by your place. Just wanted to get some news," he said, having a great interest for the floor. "And apologize again."

"A phone call would have been enough," the woman retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "And while I understand your reasons, it doesn't mean I am keen on forgiving you right now."

"You would have hanged up on me," he pointed out then added at her glare: "And, no I have no excuses; aside from the fact I didn't want Red John to torture you in case you wouldn't give her what she wanted."

"I wouldn't have talked," Lisbon protested dryly. "I thought you knew better." He looked away, obviously ashamed and feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "Do you think you can forgive me one day?"

The agent tightened her jaw. She didn't want to answer him because right now, she'd rather have him as far away as she could from her.

"I won't give up on you," he suddenly said. "I will find a way to make it up to you; I'll do everything to be forgiven." Lisbon didn't know how to take the determined look in his eyes. "I swear I'll do everything till the day you forgive me."

"Then start by not harassing me," Lisbon retorted angrily. Who did he think he was? Did he expect to get back on her good side with pretty words? "Get out of here and don't come knocking at my door for a while." His face decomposed in seconds, but the mask was as quickly back on. "Get out _now_!" she hissed before slamming the door at his face.

Through the peephole, she saw him closing his eyes, clear hurt written over his face, but he turned back to the door and walked away. Switching to the window, she spotted his blue Citroen leaving her parking lot. A feeling of relief ran through her and she headed back to her living room. She watched TV for a while, enjoying the momentary freedom her Friday night allowed her. Once the show she was watching ended, she went to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. A few moments later, after she was done with the dishwashing, her phone rang. Not recognizing the phone number, she let the answering machine take the call. Her guts were rewarded as a familiar voice echoed in the room.

" _Hi, it's Patrick. I was hoping you wouldn't pick up so you could hear me till the end, and you're not, so good for me I guess."_ He paused, as if hesitating. Lisbon stood up and headed towards the machine, intrigued. _"Don't worry, I won't take long. Just to say that…I'm going back to Nevada for a while._ " For some reason, Lisbon's heartbeat accelerated and a slight feeling of panic arise. So he was leaving after all? _"Things had…I need to go there for family reasons. But I will hold on to my word."_ His hesitant tone had turned into more determined, and she could almost picture him closing his eyes while talking. _"I'll do anything to make amends. I…I care about you Teresa, you're the closest thing I had to a real friend and I don't want to lose that because of what I did. Not without trying. Doesn't matter how long it takes. I_ am _patient after all,"_ he added with a chuckle. Lisbon's fingers lingered on the machine, tempted to pick up and say…She didn't know what she wanted to say. " _Take care, Teresa. Bye_."

And he hung up. The woman released a breath she didn't realise holding, and shut her eyes. If he was trying to confuse her, or win her back this way, it wouldn't work. As soon as he would be back in Nevada, he'd forget about her, and everything would go back to normal. Lisbon sighed and pushed the button to erase the message. The machine asked her for confirmation and she hesitated. He was leaving. Perhaps she wouldn't see him or hear his voice again. The pang in her chest was deeply anchored and, cursing her weakness, cancelled the suppression. She wasn't ready to kick him out of her life yet; but the message would be removed in time. She would make sure of it.

 **-AH-**

True to his word, Lisbon hadn't heard from the young man for about three months. Her world hadn't shattered, the routine at work kept her busy, and she still worked on Rouge Johnson's case. Lots of arrests had been made and they had been close to catch her a few times, but they were still no close to put her behind bars. Brooke didn't give any news either, but Lisbon wasn't expecting any anyway. So far, she had been well, but a small knot in her stomach told her something was missing.

She had been too used to having a certain someone keeping her company from time to time, and hadn't been able to walk in a bar for a one-night stand in a while. Almost every evening, she would listen to his message on the answering machine just to hear his voice and dwell ten minutes whether she would erase it that day or later. It drove her insane to act like a teenager waiting after her long departed boyfriend, but she was getting tired of living alone. In less about five years, she would hit the bar of forty and even though she knew she had dedicated her life to her job, the woman couldn't help but longing for...something to hold on. For a while, that damn man had given her a snapshot of what a couple could share, and she liked it.

She liked it…with him.

Lisbon pushed the thought in a far corner of her mind, wishing she had never even…thought about it and made up her mind. This time, when the answering machine asked for confirmation, she erased it for good, determined to put Patrick Jane behind her.

Ten days after she had erased the message, something unexpected happened. Hightower arrived in their office, pulling a tight face, followed by a whistling…Patrick Jane. Lisbon glanced at her boss and the young man alternatively. He seemed doing well, wearing a satisfied grin and a grey three-piece suit. And while it felt awkward –the man was still, what, twenty-three, twenty-four?- the appearance fitted him. Lisbon frowned nevertheless, wondering what he was doing here at first place. Her wonders were soon answered by the black woman, who announced with a slight edge in her voice:

"I'd like to introduce you to Patrick Jane; he will be joining your team as a consultant." Hightower paused before adding reluctantly: "He came highly recommended, so I expect from you all a good attitude from each of you."

"Thank you Madeleine," he said before adding with a wink towards Lisbon: "I am sure we will get along fine"

The black woman sighed and grumbled something before leaving him with the team. The senior agent immediately mentioned him to follow her in her office. Once the door was firmly closed, she turned towards him and glared at him:

"What the hell, highly recommended?" Lisbon blurted immediately. "Is that some kind of joke?"

Jane glanced around her office, noting down every single detail that seemed important before turning his attention to her.

"Oh that? I've helped with a few investigations back in Nevada the last few weeks, then when people recognised my work I asked my tutor and the cop I use to work with to write a letter, and applied in here. Needless to say, the big boss was very happy to greet someone having so much potential in the team. For some reason, Hightower was less pleased," he added with a grin.

"I wonder why" the woman grumbled sarcastically. "Any reason you're in _my_ team?"

Jane shrugged.

"That's Hightower's move. She figured you'd be the only one who would manage to, quote: 'deal with my crap'. Too bad she doesn't know we've already… _known_ each other for a while."

Lisbon blinked quizzically.

"She doesn't know?"

"Nope. No-one, aside from my contact in CBI, Brooke and obviously yourself, know that we had a more…intimate relationship. That I've tipped you off though, yeah." The young man paused and seemed to think hard. "I wonder if she will freak out if I ever spill that we've slept together."

"And this is you trying to redeem yourself?" she asked with disbelief. His smile fell a bit.

"I'd try by any means. You are the one who told me I was a coward for hiding in the shadows. So here I am, facing the light," he claimed, making a wide theatrical gesture with his arms. "Plus, working with the team handling the Johnson case, I might be able to pose as bait if she ever decides to get revenge on me."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but under no means she would confess it felt nice to see him again.

"I missed you too," he added, the grin back in place. The agent narrowed her eyes and snapped:

"Why don't you get better acquainted with the team and take a seat at your desk while you're at it?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied good-naturally. "How should I call you by the way? Teresa?"

"It's Lisbon for everyone, including you."

He immediately pouted but headed outside as she demanded. After his departure, the senior agent shook her head, still not quite believing he would be working with them daily now. But deep inside, -she hated to admit it- she was glad he had returned.

* * *

 **Till next time ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Just a notification, I said there would be 21 chapters, it will actually be 20, sorry ^^"**

 **Guest 1:** Thank you!

 **Guest 2:** More is there :)

 **Sharon:** Hee thanks!I try :)

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **15**

One week. It had taken one week to Lisbon to prove to the higher ups how…unstable the new element of their team really was. In only _one miserable week_ , he had managed to get more complaints than Lisbon ever had in her whole career and pissed off half of the male officers by becoming the new…idol of the feminine bureaucrats. Everywhere Jane went, if a woman was around, he would inevitably be accosted and remain with her at least ten minutes before he managed to get away from his interlocutor's grip -Lisbon would deny the jealous knot in her stomach each time it happened, and try not to show the relief when he hurried away. But if working with Jane had cons, she also easily picked up the pros.

For one, he was –unsurprisingly- good at reading and picking up guilty people and building up schemes to make them confess. Unorthodox schemes, but which always ended up by a good result. For two, he made the everyday life more lively, entertaining people with magician tricks when they had time to kill. And for three, Lisbon was indeed the only one cooping better with his indecent behaviour. Other units would groan at his approach, his deserted desk only served for decoy, as he seemed to occupy the leather couch more often than his given chair. As long as he laid there, pretending to sleep, he wouldn't be any troubles.

Right now though, Lisbon was wishing she didn't have to be his superior. Another case had been closed in record time, and the paperwork going along was resting on the corner of her desk, waiting to be filled. Exhausted after an hour of killing her eyes, she suddenly longed for a coffee and headed to the kitchenette, hoping she would be alone. The agent didn't have much luck though, Jane was there, as well as a newbie in the cyber crimes, Carole. Her shirt was way too unbuttoned for him not to notice and her skirt way too…clingy to her forms to be according to regulations. But then, Carole was a nice piece of cake and most men of the building were not complaining about her attire. Lisbon restrained the urge to snort, and stayed aback, observing the scene with annoyance. The blond woman was clucking about some anecdote occurring in her section and Jane was nodding from time to time while preparing a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry Carole," he suddenly spoke up, throwing a polite glance at her. "But I need to go back to my office. We're currently working on a new case."

The blond woman pouted in disappointment.

"I'm sorry to hear that…Well; maybe we could continue this conversation after work? I know a nice café not too far from here…"

"I appreciate the attention, but I have to decline," Jane replied with a sorry smile. Carole blinked at him, stunned, and Lisbon figured she mustn't have been rejected often.

"Oh, why don't you get lose from time to time? You're the one closing most cases lately, you can relax for a minute."

"CBI was having the highest close case rate way before I stepped in," the young man replied as politely but with a hint of annoyance showing up. Unfortunately, his partner in conversation did not get the hint. "I merely try to…help them in my own way. Murders and disappearances won't solve themselves alone."

Lisbon had to bite back a smirk. What a show off and display of false modesty. Carole's eyes didn't lose her determination though.

"Is it your boss pressuring you too much?" And the senior agent felt the bitter tone in her voice. "I heard Lisbon is very hard with her subordinates…sometimes unfair and taking all the glory and that was why she was fired from her former place."

The dark-haired woman felt a hint of anger coursing through her veins. What was with that bitch to blame _her_ for the young man's schedule? Couldn't she get that he did not want to spend more time in her company? Jane's face hardened and he stepped away from the younger woman.

"Lisbon is one of the most dedicated agents I have ever met. She is precise and professional and modest, and I doubt she even gets the rewards she deserves for all the work she does. Plus, she was transferred here because of her efficiency, and so far there is nothing wrong in being hard-working. I admire her a lot and I won't allow anyone speaking of her in those terms."

Carole's face fell when she realised criticising his boss was _not_ a good idea.

"I…I didn't mean…"

"Then _what_ did you mean?" he went on angrily before breathing deeply to cool down. "You know what Carole? Spread the word. No need to try to hit on me anymore, because I am certainly not interested in any of you." The younger woman gasped in shock at the snappiness of his tone. "There is already a woman I'm interested in and won't give up on her because you think I should give you a try. So go back to your computers and do your job instead of wasting your time with me."

Carole blinked a few times before walking away in stunned silence. Lisbon didn't know if she wanted to laugh or frown at the young man's attitude; but she felt a bit guilty at the warm feeling spreading in her body. As stupid as it sounded, Jane had stood for her in front of one of the cutest women around the bullpen, and it made her feel…happy. Jane turned around and eventually spotted her. His cheeks reddened at her sight.

"How much did you hear?" he asked, embarrassed. Lisbon couldn't help but smile amusingly.

"Enough."

Jane shook his head, picked up a mug she hadn't noticed until now and handed it to her.

"I was about to bring it to you. Coffee. Drugless, I promise," he added with a sad smile. Lisbon didn't return it, but accepted the mug gracefully. She took a small sip, carefully testing it before judging it tasted as usual and taking a bigger one. Jane's lips had formed a thin line at her gesture, knowing she wouldn't drink something from him before thinking twice for a while.

"Thanks," she eventually said. He shrugged and took a sip of his own cup.

"No big deal."

"No," she cut him. "Thank you for standing up for me."

His features softened and a more genuine smile grew on his lips.

"Anytime," he replied before leaving her in the kitchen. He was halfway out when Lisbon made up her mind.

"Patrick," she suddenly called. The young man turned towards her and waited. A softer smile had grown on her face and she took a sip of her coffee. He was doing such a good job at trying to make up, she figured his efforts could be rewarded somehow. At least, let him know she was starting to forgive him. "Thanks again."

He smiled widely in understanding and carried on his way, whistling a cheerful tune.

 **-AH-**

Another couple of weeks went by, and not much had changed. The team still managed to close cases as quickly thanks to Jane and his uncanny behaviour. Hightower still frowned warningly when he walked through the corridor; women still gawked at him despite Carole's tail; complain files still appeared on Lisbon's desk and so on. One subtle change in the agent and the former host's relationship appeared though. They were less on edge when addressing to each other, more teasing and bickering instead of fighting and competition. It worked wonders on the field, especially since Lisbon trusted Jane more when he went off wandering someplace before reappearing out of nowhere with a big grin.

Just like right now. They were checking the inside of a house where a man had been murdered after an ill-prepared robbery. The deceased's daughter, a woman in her mid twenties Josie Garcia, hadn't been able to form a coherent sentence since the beginning of the interview. After Jane had made his own tour of the place, he walked back in the kitchen and started preparing a sandwich. A little detail caught his attention; the table was no-close to being stable, and it annoyed him slightly. Lisbon, Van Pelt and Miss Garcia entered the room a little later, while he was half-done with his sandwich.

The redhead narrowed her eyes at the sight and Jane shrugged in silent reply.

"I was hungry," he defended himself before looking at the victim's daughter. "You don't mind?"

Josie shook her head, a little lost. Lisbon rolled her eyes and turned back her attention to the victim's daughter to try to get a clearer statement. Jane spoke before she could open her mouth though:

"Say, Josie, I know my question seems completely irrelevant, but what happened to the table? It's dangling a little," he said, and placing a hand on the top, moved it to prove his point. The table tangled a little.

Josie sniffed and babbled:

"Nothing important… Just…Nothing."

At Jane's insistent glance, she started blushing. The young man smirked knowingly and said on a cheerful tone:

"I suppose you had a rough dinner and dessert with your boyfriend last night…" Lisbon and Van Pelt stared at him in disbelief. If possible, Miss Garcia's cheeks flushed redder. "Meh, don't worry, you are not to blame. Unusual places –especially on the table- always give the kicks, don't you think Lisbon?"

The senior agent didn't miss the malicious glint in his eyes and looked away, partly to leave her subordinate unaware of her certainly flushed face. Damn the man, did he really have to make a reference to that…certain evening? The consultant smirked and walked in another room, whistling a happy tune, leaving a bright red Lisbon and clueless Van Pelt and Garcia behind.

 **-AH-**

 _Lisbon closed her eyes as her body hummed in perfect content. She let herself slid on the ground of her office and sighed, feeling the tiredness invading every limb._

" _Teresa?"_

 _The woman didn't move when her lover called her name, and was immediately rolled on the back. Patrick's face was close to hers, noses brushing and still a little panting. His hand cupped her cheek and he kissed the corner of her mouth again._

" _I love you Teresa. I love you," he repeated between two kisses, lowering again to pin her body underneath his. She encircled his neck with her arms and pulled him closer. She had missed his warmth, his magical fingers and longing looks. He parted her legs and slid in-between for the second time of the night. His breath was warm against her skin, droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead, but it didn't stop him from making love to her once again, his face buried in her neck and hands holding her head still. Her fingernails were digging deep trails on his strong shoulders and she bit her lower lip hard to silence her loud moans. His lips brushed her ear and he whispered huskily:_

" _Don't hold back. Come for me, Teresa."_

 _Lisbon shook her head stubbornly and bit his shoulder forcefully instead. She felt him tense at the pain before he chuckled amusingly:_

" _The building is empty now…" She whimpered when he stilled after a deeper thrust. "And I swear I will make you scream."_

"Lisbon?"

 _His hoarse voice was full of promises, but the woman kept her lips sealed obstinately. When Jane moved again though...her body was on fire and she knew it was a matter of seconds before he held to his word…A small whine urged him to go faster, but he would mercilessly keep the rhythm slow. If he wanted to kill her, then he was on the right path. His sweetness, yet eagerness to please her all the same were unbearable. She was dancing on the edge, but he would not let her fall. Damn the man!_

"Hey, Lisbon?"

 _Jane pulled back to kiss her fully. His tongue teased hers merciless and she felt her control slowly shattering. The tension in her throat increased as she held back her cries desperately, but each thrust or kiss of her lover made her resolve weaken more and more. His right hand left her head to wander around sensible places, and she could not -definitively could not- repress the urge anymore. A hoarse, loud scream escaped her mouth as she came fast and hard. The whole time she kept her eyes open, for the intensity and fascination on the young man's face just didn't_ allow _her to close them._

"Lisboooon!"

" _I love you," he whispered before kissing her again. "I love you so much."_

A hand shook her shoulder and Lisbon jumped on her seat. Her clouded mind didn't register she was still in her office, and the outside had darkened considerably. The only light was her desk lamp and she soon realised she wasn't alone. Jane was standing next to her, a disapproving look on his face.

"You fell asleep," he said on an accusing tone. Lisbon blinked again and straightened to rest her back on her chair. Jane's hand left her shoulder, and she suddenly felt a chill running down her spin. "You shouldn't be staying overnight to fill those documents."

"And whose fault is it?" the woman grumbled, restraining a yawn. He didn't reply but smiled guiltily. "What time is it?"

"Close to nine." Wow, she _had_ been sleeping for a while. "C'mon, I'll drive you to your place."

Lisbon shook her head, refusing his offer.

"I'm good Jane," she muttered, standing up slowly to gather her thoughts properly. "Go home and I'll see you tomorrow."

He didn't move when she walked passed him. Her gaze lingered on the carpet and a hot wave suddenly made her cheeks burn. Flashes of her latest dream came to taunt her, and she froze in mortification of her own thoughts.

"Thinking of that dream of yours?" Jane said with a hint of amusement. If possible, Lisbon's flush intensified.

"Dunno what you're talking about."

Damn; the mere thought of it was already turning her on. And why couldn't she move right now? Especially when he was right behind, and they were both alone in the small office?

"You talk in your sleep," she heard him say and could almost visualise the smirk of triumph on his face. "You did those cute little noises…along with whispering my name. No need to deny it my dear."

The huskiness of his voice made her shiver, and this time, she dared turn back to face him. Their gaze crossed. Lisbon knew at that very moment it was up to her to make those dreams come true again. His eyes were dark with longing, needing her; but it was still too early. She wanted him to regret every single moment and though she guessed his own guilt was eating him from the inside, she wanted to…torture him more; take advantage of the momentary power she had over him right now. The woman knew he wouldn't make a move unless she allowed him to; and so far, she hadn't given him permission.

"Good night Patrick," she whispered, picking up her handbag and heading towards the door. Tonight was not the night.


	16. Chapter 16

**I didn't think too much for the OCs in this one ^^ Enjoy :)**

 **Guest 1:** Thanks :3

 **Nathalie:** Lisbon wants to get back with Jane, it's just that he kinda broke her jaw so...she's not really happy with him, but she'll get there eventually ;)

 **Guest 2:** I like her being headstrong ;) Thanks :D

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **16**

Another case popped up on her desk that bright morning. Lisbon groaned in annoyance at the thickness of the file; a woman in her mid-twenties had been found dead in her living room. Since the victim was part of _those_ people belonging to the most snobbish neighbourhood in San Francisco, and since the scene looked like a burglary, the said neighbourhood was using every contact or resource they had in the police to have the culprit caught ASAP. Of course, to calm people down, Hightower had sent her best team –aka the SCU on the case. Lisbon groaned and wished that sometimes, she didn't hold the title of quick case-solver.

When she reappeared in the bullpen, Jane was holding Van Pelt's hands and dancing around, staring at her with intense concentration. Knowing he had found a new way to distract her team, Lisbon rolled her eyes in mid-annoyance, mid-amusement and joined the party.

"What's going on?"

Van Pelt straightened a little in sudden unease, like a little girl caught the hand in the cookie jar, and Cho glanced at her warily. Jane spoke for them, executing a small rotation and pulling the redhead along.

"I checked a video on youtube this morning" he said slowly, extremely concentrated. "The guy was reading his prey's mind to find the hidden keys of her car. I'm trying to repeat the performance here…Grace is telling me mentally where she hid her wallet. If I find it, she will have to buy me a cup of Darjeeling tea."

Lisbon's face fell in astonishment and stared at her subordinate.

"Isn't it one of the most expensive teas you find on the market? Like a hundred for a bag of leaves?"

Van Pelt's face suddenly fell and Patrick chuckled amusingly.

"Nah, don't worry Grace, I know a place I can have a cup for 10 USD."

"10 bucks for a cup of tea?" Cho repeated in disbelief.

The blond man ignored the sarcasm and stretched his arm backwards, fingers wriggling to test the area. The redhead lifted her chin in defiance, and Jane's grin grew wider. With a final spin, he dropped the woman's hand and, walked in front of her, stopped next to a plant close to the opposite wall. Then, he crouched, searched between two leaves and stood back, triumphant, with the redhead's wallet.

"There you go!"

Van Pelt smiled good-naturally and Lisbon couldn't help but allowing a smirk before announcing:

"Okay people, we have a new case. The victim Caroline Darcy was found dead in her living room, shot to the head. We'll have more on the field once there."

The two subordinates nodded. Jane's face faltered into a genuine grimace –he had his dose of high-society ladies already- but picked up his vest and followed suit. The place was already grooming of policemen and other officers of the law. Many neighbours were assisting to the scene, trying to catch a glimpse of the victim or the family itself. The team had a hard time breaking through the mass of journalists and paparazzi but eventually made it to a large and super clean garden. They had barely passed the front gate that a higher-up officer, Matthew Gateway, showed up for a briefing, too happy to get rid of the case.

"The victim, Caroline Darcy –maiden name Bingley- was found this morning by the husband's sister, Georgina Darcy." He announced. "She was looking for a book to read and noticed her sister-in-law sitting on a chair, a bullet in the forehead shot at arm's length. Apparently no-one heard or saw anything weird these last days."

While Gateway kept on delivering information, Jane peeked around their surroundings to get a better feeling of the place. Neat clean gardens, bunch of flowers and bindweed over the walls. It was a nice, soothing garden. Someone was working over there, taking care of columbines, laurel and snowball flowers.

"Do you know who implanted these?" he suddenly asked Gateway, not caring if he cut him in the middle of his discussion with Lisbon. The man glanced at him in puzzlement before answering:

"No I don't. But you should ask the gardener, Harold Parker. He's been with the family for a while."

The young man thanked him and started wandering around when…

"Jane! Come back here!"

Lisbon's voice echoed in the garden and, unable to restrain a smirk, Patrick turned heels and trotted towards her to catch up. Who was he to leave his dear boss behind? Gateway gave his regards and started walking away from the scene. The senior agent gave a pointed look at her consultant before filling him in with the information she knew he hadn't bothered listening to.

"The victim was out for a cocktail last night and came back at three in the morning; the guard at the entrance gate confirmed it. Nothing had been stolen no destroyed."

"I guess she had a high level of alcohol in her system?" he replied lightly. Lisbon shrugged.

"We have to wait for the test results."

"Did she smell alcohol at least?"

The woman shot him a disbelieved stare.

"Jane, we haven't even been on the crime scene yet. And she had been to a cocktail; of course she might smell alcohol. What was with the garden anyway?"

He brushed her question with a shrug and bested her to the crime scene, while she gave instruction to her two other subordinates.

A redhead woman was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, wrists tightened to the armchairs, a dark red hole in her forehead. Her elegant dress, careful makeup and hairstyle indicated she had just been coming back from some grand event. The mascara around her eyes had started to melt though, and a few strands were poking out of the tight ponytail.

"I don't know what you think about this, but don't you feel there is a sense of…execution?" Jane remarked when Lisbon eventually arrived. "The woman is waiting for the sentence to be pronounced, tied up to prevent her from escaping…like the electric chair, you know?"

The senior agent took a few notes before thanking the coroners and glancing around the room. What her consultant said seemed a bit too much, but it did give the impression of some execution. She noted down the thought and put it safely aside in a corner of her mind. The library didn't look disturbed by any means, and the furniture hadn't been moved.

"Really looks like an execution." Jane repeated, walking around the victim to examine every angle. He leant forwards, sniffed the body –which caused a few people to stare at him in wonder and Lisbon to ignore him blatantly- and declared: "She hadn't gone home right away, or she evaded from the party to go somewhere. She doesn't smell alcohol, and alongside with her usual perfume –Channel 5 I presume- there is another faint scent of rose and lilac that definitively doesn't belong to her usual range of perfumes. Too natural and soft. Doesn't suit the woman's personality at all."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really? How can you tell she wasn't a softie?"

Jane shrugged.

"Meh, it's obvious. Red bright dress, large diamonds on her earrings and necklace, heavy make up and strong perfume. When someone wants to intimidate others, they put a double dose on the perfume. People tend to avoid others when they smell either too bad, or too much. If you ask the people working for her, they'd all say she was the greatest bitc-"

"Jane!" Lisbon snapped, narrowing her eyes. The young man grinned in return. "And on what fact will you base that theory?"

"I was a Host my dear" he replied good-naturally. "I dealt with smelling people of all kind."

The woman didn't insist. She had recognised a certain glint in his eyes, informing her that he did not wish to continue on that line. Speaking of his former job reminded him about Rouge Johnson, and she about him and a certain punch.

"I think it was an inside job" the young man went on more seriously. "The library is quite isolated from the rest of the household. Doors are large and if someone screamed I doubt anyone would hear it, especially if they were all asleep. Had it been a thievery, the thief would have left with his prize."

"Only someone who knew the house could commit a murder in that place" Lisbon picked up from where he left. "He or her would have brought the victim to the library and finish his job there…so a member of the family?"

"Could be" Jane replied, thinking carefully. "But the staff or people working here could also know."

Lisbon nodded in agreement before they headed to the kitchen. Approaching the richly decorated place, they heard Van Pelt asking:

"Where is your son?"

A low male voice replied on a grave, calm tone:

"I sent him to his aunt, Georgina, my sister. She was in London last night with my brother-in-law and some family for a business trip, and only arrived this morning. A crime scene is no place for such a young child. Was I wrong to do so?"

They entered a wide and spaced kitchen, where Van Pelt and Cho were sitting in front of a dark-haired man with deep brown eyes. The redhead and Asian man both glanced up at their arrival. The man Jane identified as being Mr Darcy stood up to greet them.

"You must be agent Lisbon" he said calmly, extending his hand in her direction. When the senior agent took it though, he bowed and brushed its back quickly before turning to Jane. Had the blond man not done this to her before, Lisbon knew she would have turned scarlet. Jane though, found the gesture oddly fitting. With his impeccable, old-fashioned attire, Darcy looked like a modern aristocrat coming straight out from Jane Austin's novels. "Pleasure to meet you."

"I am sorry for your loss" the woman replied, and the younger man felt a burst of relief when she did not seem intimidated by the widower's appearance. Granted he was tall, handsome and well-shaped. Any woman would have had a momentary second of distraction. Yet again, Lisbon was no other woman.

"Thank you." Darcy replied and waited for her to sit down before imitating her.

Although he seemed upset, Jane couldn't feel the sadness or grief of a mourning husband. In his mind, Darcy became the top suspect –putting him in the 75 per cent husband murderer. Now he only needed to find a motive and some proof.

 _Man_ , Jane thought, restraining a yawn. _This case is already starting to be boring._

"Excuse me, where can I find the gardener?" he spoke up before anyone could speak. "Harold Parker, is it?"

Two brow eyes crossed his blue ones and scanned him intensively. Within seconds, Jane knew Darcy knew _he_ knew the dark-haired man was guilty. But no emotion came to betray this newfound information. At most, the man seemed completely filled with resignation, leaving them to find out the truth until they could get a hold of him. That destabilised the young man a second; why wouldn't he fight back his gaze to prove his innocence?

"You will find him in the garden, behind the house" was Darcy's slow reply. "May I ask why?"

Jane shrugged.

"Oh, just a few questions. You have beautiful flowers out there."

To his great interest, Darcy's face softened and a titbit of a smile grew on his lips.

"Yes, they are indeed. Good luck with what you are looking for, Mr…?" the dark-haired man's voice trailed off, silently asking his name.

"Patrick Jane. I'll be right back" he added for Lisbon before walking out of the room.

 **-AH-**

It didn't take him long to spot the greenish uniform in the backyard. Harold Parker was just an ordinary gardener, no Hercules or Romeo. Just a man content with his job, taking care of flowers. Jane waited until he got close enough to start his attack.

"Gruesome" he muttered. Parker glanced at him blankly. "The murder? How Mrs Darcy was found."

The man shrugged and kept on returning the earth with his shovel.

"I guess. 'Didn't see the body. But murder sure doesn't happen every day in the neighbourhood."

Jane nodded good-naturally.

"Do you have an idea who killed her?"

Parker stopped, paused, as if thinking, and shrugged again.

"There were rumours she was chatting with the wrong people but I dunno who they were."

"You mean she was into illegal activities?"

The gardener stared at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?"

"I work with the police." At these words, Parker tensed slightly, though Jane was tempted to put the uneasiness on dealing with a cop rather than guilt-like unease. Perhaps the man had bad experience in the past. "So according to you, Caroline Darcy was practicing illegal activities?"

The man snorted:

"The hell I know! Like I say, they're just rumours. But if you wanna know more about gossip go see the old harpy, Patricia Baker." Parker added in a grumble: "She knows everything about the gossip around and she's a freak. Like each time she looks at you, she _knows_ what you think, like a freaking psychic."

"Does she claim to be a psychic?" Jane asked immediately suddenly interested in the conversation. Parker groaned in irritation.

"Like hell I know! But I sure don't visit her. I don't want her to read my thoughts."

The blond man nodded understandingly. Before leaving though, he leant closer and asked discreetly:

"By the way, when where the flowers in the garden planted?"

The gardener frowned, wondering what the question had to do with anything.

"Like six or seven years ago? Mr and Mrs Darcy put them there herself. 'Said it would cheer the garden."

"Seven years ago?" Jane repeated in slight puzzlement. "I thought Mr Darcy only married last year."

"Heck no!" Parker protested, and the consultant found it interesting that while he didn't seem to give a damn about Caroline Darcy's death, he seemed passionate about his former lady employer. "Who do you think the little master's mother is? Mrs Darcy was such a nice woman, so full of life and very respectful of us. She's the one who hired me at first place 'cause she needed someone to watch over those while she was absent. Such a lovely lady…we all loved her here. 'Never understood why she committed suicide three years ago."

The titbit of information made Jane's brain tilt.

"Oh really? What happened?"

The gardener told him, and the young man returned to Lisbon, happy to have the puzzle half-solved in his brain already.

 **-AH-**

Patricia Baker's residence, the _Grande_ _Wave_ , was situated a little upstream of Darcy's manor, meaning upstream of the whole snobbish neighbourhood. _Grande_ _Wave_ was far from being the most beautiful house around, but it was the oldest by all means. They were greeted by an old, medium-height butler at the gate who led them to the daughter, Muriel Baker. The dark-haired woman with piercing green eyes welcomed them as politely as she could –yet with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, but I just came back from a trip from Vegas. I have business to attend and I am afraid I will not be able to help you out."

"How about your mother, Mrs Baker?" Jane asked amiably, impatient to meet the woman Harold nicknamed 'psychic'.

"She was sleeping, poor soul" the dark-haired replied dryly. "She has to take medication to get some sleep since my…younger sibling ran away."

"It must have been humiliating that she found her happiness elsewhere" Jane cut cheerfully. "Apparently money didn't fill her life as it filled yours. But hey, inheritance is just for you in the end."

Muriel's eyes flashed with anger, and Lisbon feared they had a new person to add on Jane Haters list. Before anyone could speak though, a loud voice echoed in the corridor.

"What is this about, Murry?"

An old woman in her late seventies appeared in the doorframe. In spite of her blond-white hair and frail stature due to her age, her eyes held a vivid sparkle, shining with cleverness. She was wearing a smart white shirt and vest, along with fitting pants. At once glance, everyone could tell Patricia Baker was not to be messed with.

"Mother…" Muriel started on an exasperated tone.

"Are these people here because of the fuss at the Darcy's?"

"I am Agent Lisbon, from CBI" the senior agent stated immediately. "And we are investigating on Mrs Darcy's death. Do y-"

"I don't mind answering questions" Patricia replied immediately. "But please go straight to your point. I would hate wasting time on that pin-up."

"Mother!" Muriel snapped, narrowing her eyes. "A human being is dead. Please show some respect."

The older woman stared at her daughter, laughed, and replied with a smirk:

"It's not like she's around to hear it, ain't she? C'mon Murry, I taught you better than that. If you don't want to listen to my old ramblings, why don't you pay a visit to our dear Sylvain and comfort him. He didn't take his salary's loss at poker very well."

Muriel's glare worsened and after asking if she was needed any longer, the dark-haired picked up her handbag and walked out the door. Lisbon and her team had stared at the exchange the whole time, divided between disbelief and amusement. Jane, on his side, wore a huge grin.

"Is it a habit of yours to strip your daughter's friends from their money?"

The old woman turned towards them and smirked.

"They think they will nail me somehow. Too bad I am just as good as poker as they are at making up excuses to their wives after a meeting with a lady of the night. And just for you to know, I am glad that woman got what she deserved, but still I doubt karma acted on its own. Who are the happy fellows belonging to the crew following you?"

Ignoring the sarcastic tone, Lisbon introduced them one after the other.

"Agent Van Pelt and Agent Cho, and here is Mr Patrick Jane, a consultant."

The old woman snorted at the last words.

"Dear Lord, you are a _Jane_?"

The blond man's smile faltered a titbit.

"Anything wrong with my last name?"

Patricia Baker narrowed her eyes in disgust.

"My younger daughter ran away with a Jane over twenty years ago and I have no news since. So yes, I do have an issue with your family's name."

"Mrs Baker, Mr Jane is part of the team" Lisbon started diplomatically. "We are currently investigating a murder and he is a valuable asset. Please deal with it; we will not stay very long."

The old lady huffed but didn't make another sneaky comment about the young man.

"All right. What do you need to know?"

Before she could answer, Lisbon's cell phone rang and after apologizing, left the room. Ensued an uncomfortable silence during which Van Pelt struggled to find out what to say, and Mrs Backer staring at her in a very insisting way. The blond man grinned in amusement.

"You really do enjoy the power you have over other people. You know they will likely not try to push you because you are aging, and you like it when they underestimate you."

Mrs Baker smirked and, to the redhead's great relief, turned back her attention on Jane.

"Do you think so young man?"

"I would even add you have your own theories about this case, but you like to keep secrets of your own."

"How long have you been having an affair with your boss Mr Jane?"

Van Pelt stared at the woman like she was insane. The young man didn't take the bait and smiled instead.

"Nice attempt of changing subject Mrs Baker. Tell me, why do you suspect Mr Darcy from murdering his wife?"

A staring contest started, both holding each other's gaze under the incredulous look of the two agents. Patrick added a soft 'Please', and the woman said without breaking eye contact:

"I've lived long enough to find the darkness of human nature in every being, Mr Jane. Plus, I am a woman. I understand women's jealously quite enough, even though I do not approve such extents."

"Are you referring to Mr Darcy's first wife?"

Mrs Baker smirked.

"That your job to figure it out isn't it?"

Jane examined her wordlessly another few seconds before declaring:

"Really, no-one wants to be your enemy, Mrs Baker. You have figured out the whole thing already?"

"It didn't take you much long either" she pointed out coolly. "Although I have to admit, you are a smart man too."

Jane shrugged.

"You aren't bad yourself. Why won't you register as a consultant, _Mrs Marple_? You would be more efficient than many people there."

The old lady brushed his suggestion by a disinterested humph.

"I am way too old for that kind of action my dear. I prefer being the "old harpy" of the neighbourhood. People are much more entertaining this way. But it would be entertaining if you showed up one day for a cup of tea."

"It would be with great pleasure" he replied with a light nod before turning to leave the house. He didn't spot the attention the old lady had on him, and when he disappeared in a corner of the corridor, quickly followed by the two agents, Patricia Baker closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

 **-AH-**

Lisbon soon joined them outside, after a quick round of the people in the Barker's household. So far, she hadn't got anything worth, but perhaps Jane had been more lucky with the Baker lady.

"So, what did you get?"

Jane smirked proudly before declaring:

"Mrs Baker is the worthy representation of Agatha Cristie's Miss Marple; an old lady with a sharp sense of deduction. She figured out that the victim, Caroline was murdered by Mr Darcy because she killed his first wife." Lisbon stared at him in surprise.

"What's with the story about the first wife's murder?"

"Meh, Darcy actually married a certain Elizabeth Bennet seven years ago. She died from poisoning three years ago -officially a suicide, according to Mr Parker, the gardener. He also told me that as soon as Caroline married Darcy, she wanted to get rid of the flowers they had both planted together. Couldn't bear the memory."

"Why wouldn't Darcy speak of his first wife?" Lisbon wondered out loud. "Did he think that would draw suspicions on him?"

Jane shook his head.

"He doesn't give a damn being arrested. He lost his interest when his first wife died. That must be why he married someone who looked nothing like her. Mrs Baker drew the same conclusions" he whispered, before adding with a bright smile: "And she also figured out that I am passionately in love with you."

That made the agent snort in disbelief. She didn't make out the relieved sighed of her two subordinates in the background though.

"What a psychic she is indeed."

Lisbon raised her eyebrows in warning, and he backed up with a smile.

"Suggest once again something like that during an investigation; I'll put you behind bars."

"Will you use your own cuffs?" he asked, suggestively rolling his eyebrows.

"Shut up" she growled in return. "We have a job to do."

"Yes ma'am."


	17. Chapter 17

**Guest:** Gracias! xD

 **Nathalie:** I like her too, she was fun to write :D Thanks for the review!

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **19**

Three days had passed since the Darcy's case, and that had been the time Jane spent making up his mind to pay a visit to Mrs Patricia Baker. Usually, he didn't take so long to reply to an invitation. He couldn't blame it on the case, Mr Darcy had confessed killing his second wife without blinking once Lisbon and Cho had him cornered in the interrogation room. He couldn't either blame it on the arrival of a new one; nothing had shown up within the past two days. He just had to pin it on the uneasy feeling he had when he had left _Grande Wave_ that day.

But now, the young man had no excuse to avoid it. The old lady hadn't called him by phone or wrote a letter herself, but he had caught glimpse of her wandering around CBI. She had nodded at him and he had felt an unexpected…curiosity. From both part. He was undoubtedly intrigued by her, and somehow, he felt she knew something he didn't.

"Something's wrong Jane?"

The young man raised his eyes and met Lisbon's ones. The woman was set to take off for the day, jacket in hand and purse on her shoulder. No case had shown up during the day, hence why the senior agent had ordered everyone to leave around five. Her worried expression made him feel slightly…selfishly better. At least he knew she still…cared somehow about him. He shrugged.

"It's nothing my dear. I'm debating on whether I should pay a visit to a friend or skip the invitation."

"We didn't have much work lately," the woman replied softly. "Perhaps you should go out for once?"

Jane's lips tightened in a thin line. Patricia Baker's knowing eyes flashed in his mind, like a taunting image.

"Perhaps I should. What about you? Any plans for the evening?"

If Lisbon had been honest, she would have answered she did not and was hoping he would be gracious enough to join her for an early meal, because she was starting to get tired of being alone at home. Instead, she grew a soft smile and shrugged:

"I'll be catching up with a friend too. And I need paperwork to be done. Enjoy your afternoon then."

If the young man sensed the lie, he didn't mention it.

"All right, you too," he replied with a smile, standing up and picking up his jacket. As he walked out the door, Lisbon shook her head in annoyance and took the stairs to walk out. She was about to leave the bullpen when she spotted a medium-height, brownish haired man looking around, seeming a bit lost.

"Hello!" she called out. "Can I help you?"

When the newcomer turned and saw her in turn, a genuine smile grew over his face.

"Agent Lisbon?"

It took a few seconds for her to put a name on the face of the man.

"Oh, officer Gateway."

The cop grinned, obviously pleased that she remembered him.

"Please, call me Matthew. I'm off-duty and I suppose you are too."

Lisbon waited for him to continue, but when he didn't show any signs of pursuing a conversation, she asked:

"Do you need anything?"

The man inhaled quickly and took a step closer. The senior agent crossed her arms and stared, wondering vaguely what he was doing at CBI of all places, while she thought he lived in San Francisco. The case was closed and he was dressed in civilian. There was no business reason for him to be here. Did he show up to ask for a personal favour?

"In fact, I came to see you." She frowned slightly at his sudden lack of self-confidence. "I…I was wondering if you'd like to…I don't know, grab a beer someplace? I heard you were given a break lately, so…Unless you have plans for tonight already," he added quickly, patting the back of his head, suddenly ill-at-ease. "Sorry, I know I should have called first…"

Lisbon couldn't help smiling in compassion. While Gateway seemed shy in her presence, she didn't sense an urgent need for seduction. Just a night out with a fellow co-worker –that was, she might add, not in her district and quite charming- wasn't against regulation or any of her ethics.

"It's okay Matthew. And I guess I do have plans now."

 **-AH-**

Jane didn't know what kind of welcoming he would have once arrived at _Grande Wave_. The butler led him directly to the garden where Patricia Baker was taking a cup of tea. When she was him arrive, she smiled good-naturally.

"Welcome Patrick. Please take a seat, I will order Mr Jones to bring some more tea."

The young man obeyed. Around them, roses, dandelions and other flowers were in full blossom. The grass was neatly cut, but grown enough not to feel the earth under the feet.

"It's very peaceful here," Jane commented, glancing around. "It only needs a fountain with fishes and a few ducks…"

"That's what I always say to Mr Fisher, but that old cranky complains about not being paid enough to maintain the garden in shape. Had I not my leg injured, I would have taken care of the matter myself."

Jane grinned:

"Your daughter Muriel would also be furious. She seems adamant and overprotective about your health."

The old lady snorted.

"She cares as long as we share the house. I don't get any postcards or phone call when she's visiting Europe or other foreign countries. She knows she won't be inheriting this house anyway. Enough speaking of me. I heard this poor Mr Darcy gave himself up."

Patrick nodded. The tea was brought, served, and he picked up a cup.

"He did without blinking though the interview."

"He was sad and weak. Too bad he couldn't stand up for his son. Good thing that Georgina is a wonderful aunt."

A short silence fell a while. Then, Patrick mentioned the weather, and Mrs Baker grumbled about her aging butler. They spoke of various things for a while, until the old lady attacked with what seemed to be her new interest:

"So, are you and Agent Lisbon having an affair?"

That made the young man smile. The flashing and scanning eyes of the woman informed him that she already had many drafts about their situation, but none of them very accurate. That detail was annoying her grandly, he could feel it.

"Does it matters so much to you?" Jane asked with an amused smile. Patricia smirked in response.

"So you ARE having an affair with her."

The intonation was almost triumphant. The blond man chuckled amusingly and replied:

"No, not really. Whatever was starting between us got…interrupted thanks to my own foolishness."

The old lady raised a brow, and Jane shrugged.

"It's a very long story; I doubt you will have the patience to listen till the end. I might have a solution for your aging butler though; I know a very reliable man who used to work as vigil in my former job."

"I will consent listening to it _after_ you tell me the whole story, young lad," Patricia scolded. "Old people like me always appreciate unpredictable stories. For some reasons, I am persuaded yours will be fascinating."

The young man eyed her suspiciously. Her interest in him intrigued him, and he vaguely wondered why she had blatantly invited him. He leant forwards and scanned her face attentively:

"Tell me, Mrs Baker. Are you intending to do something wrong?"

The old lady snorted:

"Like a hold up or a murder? Please Patrick, if I wanted to make sure I was covered, I wouldn't ask advice from a consultant. I'd bribe a judge or something…and even then I would not get caught." She went on with a very firm and positive tone. "No, I'm just interested in you, Mr Jane."

"Such behaviour might be considered like creepy" he blurted with a charming smile, half-certain to make her angry. Patricia only smirked.

"I was considered creepy and mentally unstable way before you were born young lad. Now, can you deny the reasonable request of an old lady and spice her last days with some tales of your life?"

Jane scanned her one last time. Although he sensed motive behind her insistence in knowing his past better, she didn't appear to be the kind of old gossiper that would throw rumours around the place, just to be considered as the one who held all knowledge.

"I suppose there is no harm in that," he eventually said, picking up his cup of tea and taking a sip. "What would you like to know?"

 **-AH-**

The next morning, when Patrick came to work, he was surprised by the cheery atmosphere in the office. Van Pelt and Cho were busying themselves, since there were no cases showing up, and the redhead was whistling. When he asked why such a light mood, she replied with a smile:

"Boss's in good mood today, so everyone's cool."

"She told me she was catching up with a friend yesterday," Jane replied. The redhead shook her head.

"Nope, I'd rather say she had a hot date." She paused before adding with a wicked smirk: "You should have seen her smile this morning…"

"A date?" he repeated in disbelief.

Van Pelt nodded and added, whispering on a tone of confidence:

"I saw her with officer Gateway yesterday at O'Malley's. You know, the bar in Washington's Sq? Seems like they were having lots of fun and I heard the man was single and quite popular."

Jane had a hard time keeping his face straight as the redhead went on babbling about what she had seen. Bubbles of anger and feeling of betrayal started to emerge at the surface, and he could do nothing to stop them. Without waiting for his colleague to finish, he headed straight to the couch and lay on it. The whole day passed slowly, and he had a hard time occupying his mind.

He eventually got distracted by rethinking his past evening with Mrs Baker. He had ended up spilling most of his life; his childhood as the son of a carnie, the days he spent perfecting his skills on reading people, the day his father got caught by police and charged for drug smuggling –and the ten years he got for that- his taking in by the old Georges, a former admirer of his mother…

"Hey Jane?"

The blond man shot a curious eye at his caller, aka Van Pelt, who was standing before her desk, all set on leaving for lunch. Oh, he hadn't realized it was midday break yet.

"Cho and I are going at Marie's. Do you want to join?"

He was about to agree, but a second thought made him quickly glance at Lisbon's office. He could spot her standing silhouette, hand over her ear, very likely speaking on the phone. A course of jealously ran through his veins. Was she speaking to _that_ man?

"The boss isn't coming," Cho said, catching his gaze. "She wants to fill a few files before."

He nodded, eyes glued to her office. He had a desperate urge to storm in there, now that he knew they were all leaving.

"It's okay," Jane eventually said, forcing his attentions back on his colleagues. "I'll stay here and make sure she gets to eat something" then he added with a wink: "It's my job to annoy- sorry, watch over her, ain't it?"

The Asian man smirked while Van Pelt rolled her eyes. They warned him not to abuse of Lisbon's patience too much before leaving. Jane waited until they had passed the elevator door to stand up and move towards Lisbon's office. He didn't knock, just opened the door without warning and despite the lack of people in the building, closed the blinds before turning towards her. She was half sitting on her desk, reading a file, her phone set on the table. Despite the urge to pick it up and check the last number dialled and received, Patrick concentrated on her. The frustration the young man had felt earlier remerged and he snapped:

"Why did you go out with him?"

The woman put down the file she was holding at hand and stared at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. That guy last night. Why did you go out with him?!" he growled, glaring at her angrily. "Is this amusing to you?"

Lisbon understood his point and merely shrugged.

"What is amusing? I don't recall acting any different than usual. I just went out with a friend and had a bit of fun. Will you blame me for it?"

That last sentence made something snap in him, and Jane suddenly moved forwards, making her jump off her desk and walk back until he pinned her against the wall. Lisbon didn't stir, and while she was caught off guard by his action, she wasn't surprised. He would have known about her friendly date with Gateway sooner or later. She didn't expect him to react so badly though. His face was only inches of hers when he continued:

"Oh yeah? Is that your payback for me breaking your jaw? Are you planning to drive me crazy?"

Wow, she thought, her going out must have unnerved him more than she thought.

"Why did you accept a date with that loser? What does he have that I don't?" His eyes were turning wild, and their sudden intensity scared her. She had underestimated him; Jane was far more dangerous than she originally thought. "What do I have to do to be back in your life again?" he added in a whisper. "What do I have to do to make you forgive me?"

The woman didn't answer, merely stared at him coolly. She would not deal with him; not when he was so uncontrolled. Sensing her reluctance to reply, he closed his eyes and pulled back, freeing her from his caging shadow.

"For one," she replied, trying to control the trembling of her voice. "His name is Matthew Gateway, and he is not a loser. He is a decent man and yes, I went out with him yesterday night. So what? You met someone as well."

"I went to see Mrs Baker," he snapped. "Hardly a date."

"And I thought you were used to deal with any kind of woman, given your former job."

The young man shot her a glare. Lisbon looked away, knowing her reference to his previous life did not pleased him, if not hurt him.

"I only came back for you, Teresa. You should have told me right away that you didn't want me," he muttered. "Then I would have left you alone."

He walked through the door, opened it and stepped out without closing behind. The whole time, the senior agent could just watch him, frozen by his earlier words, and wondering if she hadn't just started a huge misunderstanding.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sharon:** Totally normal reaction :) Lisbon is in her mid thirties; there's a twelve (or something) year gap between them. Thanks for the review :D

 **Elizabeth S:** I think he kinda deserves the cold shoulder for a while...but yeah, a change of course won't hurt :) Thanks for the review :D

 **Nathalie** : We are in complete agreement xD Thanks for the review :3

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **18.**

"I think Jane has a thing for the boss."

Cho put down his drink and glanced at his colleague. Van Pelt was staring mindlessly at her salad and toying with the garments. He pitied the unfortunate mushroom bearing her nervousness.

"You only noticed it now?" he asked before taking another bite of his lasagne. The redhead pouted.

"Hey, I'm sorry I'm not as observant as you are. My domain is what's more cybernetic and stuff. It's a wonder I don't wear glasses yet. Might need a good pair in a few years." She grumbled. "How far do you think they went?"

After a quick amused smirk, Cho replied:

"Obviously Jane's a playboy. He flirts with other women but whatever he says, you can't deny he always looks at Lisbon the same way a starving man looks at a banquet."

"So you think he's just obsessed by her?" Van Pelt asked, taking a mental note to check that piece of information.

"I _think_ he _might_ be in love with her."

The redhead couldn't help it. She snorted loudly in her drink, catching the attention of half of the room by doing so. After mumbling an apology, she finished it and glanced at Cho.

"I thought he was…I mean Wayne –an old colleague of Jane when he was working at the Red Host Club- told me he was gay, that he just pretended to be with women. I trusted his word, but now I think he's just bad-mouthing about him, since he lost his job when the Club closed."

The Asian man stared at her in disbelief.

"Given the way he stares at Lisbon when no-one's looking, he's definitively not gay. And how come you know that?"

The redhead's cheeks reddened slightly.

"We've been in contact…"

"You mean dating?"

"No!" Van Pelt replied, her cheeks turning redder and redder each second ticking. "He might have asked me out last night though."

Cho smirked and finished his glass with one gulp. A quick glance at the wall clock and he informed his colleague they'd better hurry if they didn't want to be late.

 **-AH-**

At three pm, Hightower eventually called Lisbon for a new case. This time, it concerned a waitress found stabbed in the bathroom. While Cho left behind, Van Pelt accompanied her boss and Jane, keeping an attentive eye on them. At the crime scene, her attention was only focused on the poor dark-haired girl, lying over a toilet, bleeding abundantly and holding a break-up letter in one hand; the knife in the other. It didn't take a genius to realise she had committed suicide. Even Jane –who usually loved to seek for some hidden meaning behind an action, came to the same conclusion within seconds.

The redhead took advantage of the moment to analyze the two from afar. So far, she couldn't see any real sparkle between them, but then both busy taking statements from the staff. Jane was smiling to a young woman –a waitress, while Lisbon scribing down a few words from a tall, agitated man.

"Well Anna, allow me to say that you have lovely eyes."

Van Pelt eyed the young man with a hint of surprise. Lisbon was within earshot and he had never been so…forwards towards another woman with her around. The senior agent didn't seem to notice though, and kept on taking notes from the statement of the dead girl's boss. Anna blushed, giggling in appreciation.

"Thank you Mr Jane."

"Very welcome my dear."

He went on commenting how terrible this new situation must be to her, and how brave she was to stand strong despite the events. What shocked the redhead the most though, was when she offered her phone number, and he accepted it without blinking twice. Another glance at Lisbon seem to bother, focused on her interview.

"We might be wrong," she said to Cho once she managed to corner him later on. "Jane doesn't seem so interested in Lisbon after all."

The Asian man stared blankly at her.

"'Course he is. The whole flirt with that girl? Just a show. And Lisbon has feelings for him too."

Van Pelt opened her mouth to protest, to point out that she hadn't reacted when the consultant had too the girl's number and kept acting extremely professional till the end of the investigation. But he beat her to it:

"Lisbon would have never allowed him to take the witness's number if she had been in her right mind. Professionally speaking, this is uncalled for. She was jealous and would have probably been unable to hide it if she had stepped in."

The redhead blinked at his words and weighted them. If he was right, then there was a lot of drama awaiting then in the next few weeks.

 **-AH-**

The office had been deserted for some time, but Lisbon was still in her office. Jane had sort of behaved at the crime scene, so she didn't need to fill much paperwork, but still wanted to be done with it. Plus, even if she felt a little tired, she wanted to keep her mind busy. Back then, she had witnessed her consultant flirting with a girl from the bar's staff, and rushes of jealously had clouded her judgement for a few minutes. Deep breaths and a desperate concentration on her interviews had been necessary to ignore the blatant flirting occurring in her back.

"You're still here?"

Lisbon kept her eyes right on the form and continued filling, ignoring him. She knew he would intrude anyway, but didn't want him to spot the hurt in her eyes.

"It's no good to stay up so late."

"Thanks to whom, I wonder," she snapped back, still not rising her head. She heard Jane enter, close the door behind, and step closed to the desk.

"Why are you angry?"

"I'm not angry."

"Sure you aren't." He kept quiet a few minutes before adding: "Are you jealous about the way I handled my interview with Anita?" She didn't reply. He took it for a 'yes'. "When will you understand I only have my eyes on you?"

The senior agent snorted and glared at him this time.

"Yeah. That didn't stop you from seducing that poor girl the whole time."

Her voice was trembling with anger. How dare that man say he wanted her forgiveness and then act the way he did? Jane walked around the desk, twisted her chair in his direction and leant over her, forcing her to face him in the eye. His intense, wounded blue eyes.

"I did this to let you know how much it hurts."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes and hissed:

"Back off. Now."

His breath tickled her lips. His face was close to hers –so close, she could feel his warmth floating from his skin…causing a different warmth to spread within her. The intense gaze never left hers, and the woman cursed herself for not being able to look away. One move. Just one move and she could erase the distance. Give him permission to sneak back in her private life. Deep inside, she was very unhappy with this situation, and wanted nothing more but to return to their routine pro-kidnapping; to have him in her kitchen speaking nonsense while burning dinner, in her living-room watching stupid movies with her…in her bed making her scream.

She wanted it back. She had been lonely enough, and somehow she felt he had been too.

"I get it. It's over, right?"

No it's not, she wanted to reply. Her brain was urging her to, but her jaw wouldn't move. For some reason, Lisbon felt…petrified. Jane shook his head, released the armchairs he was clenching earlier and stepped back.

"Should have never come back indeed…but don't worry, Agent Lisbon, I won't bother you anymore. Farewell."

And with these words, he turned back towards the door and walked out without looking back.

 **-AH-**

Patricia Baker raised her brows at the sight of the young man in the doorway.

"I wasn't expecting any visit tonight," she spoke slowly, eyeing her visitor with faint worry. "What brings you so late to visit an old fag like me?"

Jane smiled weakly and sat in the closest couch, accepting gratefully the cup of tea she offered.

"I came to say good-bye. I will be returning to Nevada in the next few days, and I didn't want to leave before thanking you."

The old lady stared at him in puzzlement.

"Thank me about what?" she muttered. "I don't remember giving you anything."

Jane grinned gently and raised his cup of tea.

"Thank you for not throwing me out of the door the moment you realised I was your grandson. It means a lot."

Patricia Baker grunted something and took another sip of her own. The blond man still saw her hands trembling. Good thing he decided to stop by before, he thought. Leaving without saying goodbye or confessing he knew they were blood-related, would have been a real stab for her. The first hint had been the line of her eyebrows and the thin mouth when she frowned. Then, the strong reaction upon hearing his name and her underlying invitation next -he suspected she tried to avoid people bearing a 'Jane' somewhere. And last, the portrait of the woman with her two daughters hanging above the chimney. The older one was obviously Muriel, but the second one, he had already seen the mischievous face on the only picture his father had left of his mother. Jane quickly realised the old lady was waiting after him, and spoke softly:

"I barely remember her," he eventually said without needing to mention his mother's name. "She died when I was five. But I will always recall the way she glared at me when I pulled a trick. It was scary." He caught the outlines of a smile on Patricia's face. "And her amused laugher, following right after. I don't think I ever saw her really angry, or crying."

"Beatrice was very easy to please," the old woman muttered, putting back her cup on the table, done with the subject for the time being. "What is chasing you out of the State?"

Jane felt the urge to wince but –in his mind- did a good job to restrain it.

"Unrequited love, I'm afraid," he replied.

"Your lady boss?" she asked, rising a brow in surprise.

"My dear Lisbon," Jane sighed and nodded in approval. "She is starting to move on, so I figure I should do the same."

"Move on?" the old lady repeated, more and more intrigued. She leant forwards, elbows on her knees and fingers intertwined. "Please tell me more, dear."

The young man started by the previous evening, when they had parted ways out of the office, then the next morning at the bullpen, the flirt with the waitress, and their last conversation in her office. During the whole time, Mrs Baker kept an attentive ear open during his speech, analyzing in her own ways the situation. When he was done, the old lady was glaring at him.

"You little idiot," she said with a hint of annoyance. "You really lack experience in wooing women." Jane stared at her in puzzlement, and she added: "Didn't you realise she was sending you signals? I know Agent Gateway very well, and I have no doubt he had driven up to Sacramento on impulse. Your lovely Lisbon had nothing planned for the night. Half my fortune she was about to ask you to come home with her."

Patrick blinked. She went on.

"And your last conversation, I swear you got that behaviour from your grand-father. Extra-territorial. You went to see another woman –or a friend, as you told her, without asking if she had plans first. And of course she would say she had something going on, dear, she has her pride!" Mrs Baker added before he could open his mouth. "And you just lose your mind like an upset brat whose lover didn't act like 'supposed to'? She had barely seen him from the day before, how could they have been dating! You should have _first_ asked her out for lunch then judge her reaction before beating yourself up _and_ beating her afterwards…so to say."

The young man stared at her in disbelief. The old woman was still staring at him severely, like a parent would do with a rebellious child.

"And while I'm at it, despite being a mere officer, Matthew Gateway is a decent man. Decent enough for your Lisbon. If you want to measure up to him, you better start by apologizing now or believe me young man, you will lose her for good."

Back in his dark apartment, Jane let himself fall on the couch and closed his eyes. Patricia's words echoed a long time in his mind. While he knew she was probably right, his pride didn't allow him to recognize all of his faults. He had tried, really tried. But he couldn't make up his mind and call her to apologize. He had been hurt. Hearing she had been seeing another man –even for one night and not even a date- made his heart arch and twist in jealousy. Perhaps he was a bit territorial, but with such a beautiful creature, who wouldn't? He wanted her for himself, almost wished he could lock her somewhere to keep her away from others. From Gateway, for instance.

Jane sighed. His feelings for Lisbon were running deeper than he originally thought. He knew he was attracted to her, enjoyed teasing her and making her smile. He also knew he craved her, and doubted anyone had treated her like he had on their first night. Not that he had treated her the way she deserved it either, mind him. But still…

The young man stood up, unable to stay still any longer. If by miracle she came back to him, he promised himself he would treat her like a queen. The thought barely left his mind that someone knocked at the front door.


	19. Chapter 19

**Guest 1:** Haha yes she is :D Thanks xD!

 **Guest2:** Oh after all he put her through, Lisbon does deserve a good treatment :) Thanks for the review :D

 **Guest 3:** wrong guess, sorry :P

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **19**

Lisbon didn't know what she was doing there. Frankly, after such a hard day, she wanted nothing more but to slip under her sheets and sleep till the next morning. But the thought Jane might take advantage of that short period to slip out of town and leave her behind wouldn't stop nagging her. Stupid fear, she knew, especially since she had done nothing wrong and _he_ owed _her_ an apology for behaving like a jerk; but better safe than sorry so there she was, standing in front of that jackass's door, waiting in the cold.

A full minute passed after she knocked and he still hadn't answered. The woman figured he might be out or hadn't heard her, so she raised her hand to knock a second time. Her fist didn't reach the door though. Instead, it stopped inches of his chest when he opened.

"Teresa?"

His eyebrows were lifted in mid-surprise, as if he hadn't been expecting her visit. Or not really expecting it.

His momentary lack of speech gave her enough time to analyze his appearance. Disheveled hair, same suit he was wearing a few hours ago, tired eyes...Her heart made a jump in her chest. He looked like he had just awaken from a nap and...quite good-looking. She almost forgot why she came here at first place. Before he could even speak, two words bypassed her lips.

"Don't leave."

Jane glanced at her in mid-surprise. He had expected...well coming from her, he didn't know what he should have expected, but certainly not a plea. The woman was strong and stubborn, a trait of character he sincerely admired and his little speech must have really bothered her if she showed up tonight. Although she had only spoken two words, he understood how much this situation cost her. Teresa Lisbon's pride never allowed her to run after people.

They had to talk, obviously, but not on his doorstep.

"Do you want to come in?"

He stepped aside. The moment she set a foot in his place, she started glancing around with simple curiosity. Thinking of it, this must have been the first time she ever set a foot at his place. Usually, he showed up at her apartment to spend the evening there. Jane waited until she was done scanning around and crossed his arms, staring imperturbably at her. He knew he was in no position to push her, but couldn't help it. He needed her to say the words:

"Why shouldn't I leave? You don't need me to close cases."

"It's not about the job," Lisbon replied, her hand clenching at her bag. Her eyes met his and she raised a brow, silently informing him she was not going to enter his little mind game.

"You obviously don't have any interest in me anymore, so why should I stay here?"

"I never said that!" the woman replied angrily. "I was just going out with a colleague! It wasn't out of romantic interest. You know you're..." She took a deep breath. "You are the only guy I am _...interested_ in."

Jane glanced at her in puzzlement. Out of everything, he was not expecting her to be so...straightforward. His Lisbon was a very private person and he usually had to use all of his skill to get a tidbit information out of her. Any other time, her words would have been enough to reassure him. Tonight, he felt he needed something more to comfort him in his decision.

"Prove it. Kiss me."

There was a short silence, during which both held a staring contest. Jane knew he shouldn't have asked for something so bold, but his whole being was longing for her. Just a kiss, a small kiss, would help him wait longer, encourage him to sneak back into earning her good graces.

"You're an ass," she eventually spit, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm asking for a proof that you are still 'interested' in me," he replied calmly. "Is it too much for you to handle?"

"I don't see how a kiss is going to prove you anything."

"The one thing I learned from my time at the Red Host club is that you cannot lie when you kiss someone on the _lips._ Feelings are there, lying underneath the surface." He took a step closer. "And besides that, you have no idea how hard I've been holding back these weeks."

"That is plain selfishness." She retorted, feeling the urge to leave slamming the door. But once again, his eyes prevented her from moving. In spite of his bravado, she had never seen them so open and vulnerabile. Jane took a few steps forwards and leaned closer.

"Yeah I am a selfish bastard," he whispered, face inches from hers. "But I'd do worst to keep you."

Before she could add anything, his lips met hers gently and his eyes still holding hers defiantly. Lisbon didn't react at first, too startled by his move, but eventually parted her lips as invitation and surrendered. The gentle way he moved against her fried her thoughts in nanoseconds. It would be so easy to surrender to the hands that had slipped over her hips, moving now up and down, caressing her curves and if Lisbon was honest with herself, she would admit she had missed his touch…and the memory of his so-gentle fingers running over her skin and his skillful mouth triggered butterflies in her lower stomach. His tongue passed the barriers of her lips in a gentle caress and a deep shiver shook her body. She grunted in protest when he pulled back slightly to breathe and leant forwards to capture his mouth once again. The same thought crossed their mind. To hell with their last argument, that he was a jerk and she deserved way more. They barely took time to fill their lungs that he was pinning her against the closest wall, pulling her shirt over her head while she was busy unbuttoning his fervently…

The cell phone rang.

They parted immediately and after a quick glance a him, Lisbon stepped back, cheeks flushed and cursing herself for surrendering so easily.

"Patrick Jane speaking," the young man greeted when he picked up. Lisbon took her purse and jacket and got ready to leave. She had lowered herself to his game enough, no need to stay any longer. "Oh, good evening Miss Johnson, how nice to hear your voice."

The agent in her froze dead in tracts and stared at the young man. Despite the light tone he had just used, Jane's face had tensed and paled considerably. She put her purse back down and stepped closer to him as quietly as possible. The young man turned the speaker on for her to listen.

"Are you alone?" the voice of the woman echoed from the device. Lisbon pursed her lips in turn and glared at the cell phone. "Or is the lovely agent Lisbon with you?"

The dark-haired didn't hesitate, feeling that the woman knew the answer no matter what.

"I'm here. What do you want?"

There was a sinister laugh on the other side of the phone.

"I knew it! In this case, Agent Lisbon, let me inform you that you will hear from me soon enough."

"If I may intervene..." Jane started.

"As for you Patrick," Red John cut before he could go on, "You know what treatment I give to traitors. You should watch your back starting from today."

The line went dead. Both stared at each other. This was _not_ good.

-AH-

Rouge Johnson shut her cell phone close and dropped it on the floor. The mobile bounced against the tiled floor and ended in a deep pool of blood. The woman smirked at the sight before her: the two-days-old corpse of the owner of the house was spread on his back, eyes looking up to the ceiling, a large opened wound barring his abdomen. Kneeling next to him, the white-blonde-haired Betty was busy extracting a few organs from the stomach, eying them with disgust.

"Do we really have to do this ma'am?" she asked hesitantly, dropping the liver in a basket nearby.

Johnson sniffed and shrugged.

"Not really. But I think Wilson was getting tired of hiding me, so might as well get rid of him on the way, don't you think Betty?"

The younger woman bit her lower lip and glanced at the corpse once again.

"I don't know. Mr Wilson was kind to us."

The redhead snorted and pulled out a cigarette.

"Kind? Yeah. All he wanted was the money, hon. And an occasional bonus. Nothing kind about that." She lit the stick, puffed and inhaled the smoke. "You're still too naïve about certain things; but don't worry," she added, patting the younger's head gently. "As long as you stick with me, you'll be fine."

Betty bit her lower lip nervously, but eventually nodded. Johnson smirked, whispered a quiet 'that's my girl' and leaned down to kiss her partner's lips.

"Remember hon," she whispered. "It's you and me together. We'll get revenge over those traitors and start a new life once this is over. You're game?"

The blond shut her eyes closed and sighed.

"Why can't we start all over now? I don't want to go back to Sacramento. It's too dangerous for you Rouge."

The redhead snorted and shook her head.

"Not if I meet the right people. And you're going to help me find them. Nobody will suspect you." the woman added with a shrug before pulling on her cigarette again. "Now finish your business. We got a long trip awaiting us."

As Betty nodded, Johnson turned to face the window. It was dark outside, almost stormy. She frowned and put back the cigarette in her mouth, her thoughts returning to the man she had called a few minutes earlier. The man who had deceived and betrayed her for over two years. Patrick Jane.

She growled angrily. How could she have missed the signs? His unanswered calls at time, his little teasing, the glint he tried hard to hide in his eyes...Johnson shook her head. Dumar had noticed something was wrong with the blond man, Betty had warned her something was going on with him but she didn't want to consider him as a threat yet, interpreting the words of her two dedicated lieutenants as jealously towards him. A good percentage of her clients came for him and losing another good investment -sometimes she regretted not simply blackmailing Paul into staying; that would have been way less complicated- in such a short period of time would have not been good or business. That and that little charm of his, she had to admit, had gotten under her skin.

Johnson sighed again and returned her attention on Betty. The woman was almost done emptying the man's body. The older woman smirked. The fifteen-year-old orphan she had taken in years ago had definitively turned out to be a brilliant subordinate. Despite what people thought, Betty wasn't just a mindless cretin. She knew when to back up, come up with the most plausible stories to cover both their backs, and she was completely devoted to her.

Although lately, Betty had been questioning her actions. From now on, the redhead would definitively keep a closer eye on her lover. It would pain her to get rid of her if needed, and while Rouge did not want to lose another faithful tool, she did not wish to get caught.

"I'm done Rouge."

Johnson's eyes stopped over Betty's work a second, before landing on her. The corner of her lips twisted upwards. In spite of the amount of blood on the scene and the unbearable smell of death, the younger woman had yet to blink an eye. Maybe, she thought, her partner was ready for her first murder.

"Nice job," Red John said. "Now, let's get ready and leave the scene before the cops arrive."

-AH-

Lisbon pushed the door and waited until Hightower acknowledged her presence to sit down. The black woman crossed her arms and looked straight in her subordinate's eyes.

"So you were contacted by Johnson?"

The brunette nodded.

"Jane got a phone call around 10 pm yesterday. Van Pelt located the call but when we arrived with the SWAT team, she was already gone. We found the body of a man named Wilson Ramirez and evidence tend to prove that he and Red John were tied" she paused, letting her boss digest the information; Ramirez was a hell of an attorney and had worked with the CBI for years. "Apparently he also hosted her for the past few months...and according to neighbors, she wasn't alone. A blonde woman they identified as Betty Holigan, who use to work at the front desk. Jane believed she and Johnson were lovers."

Hightower raised a brow.

"And why wasn't she checked out?"

Lisbon sighed; there was the hitch.

"She was under surveillance for three weeks after Johnson's disappearance, but since no suspect activity was reported, they abandoned the trail and only checked up regularly. After two months, she moved out and vanished."

Hightower remained silent. There was nothing else to say.

"What are your plans of actions?" she eventually asked.

"I'm assigning Cho to watch over Jane for a few days. Given Johnson's tone, I assume she will make her move soon enough."

"You were with Jane when he got his phone call?" the black woman asked with a rised brow. "So late at his house?" Lisbon grunted, knowing where this was leading. "I have no say on your private life, Agent," Hightower added quickly. "But be aware that Jane is just a bunch of troubles."

"I know ma'am and I can handle it." The brunette replied coolly. She didn't want to snap to her superior but at the same time, did not wish to continue along that line. Private life was private life. The black woman did not insist.

"All right. I assume Agent Cho will be living with Jane then? Have you sorted out the details yet?"

 **-AH-**

Jane frowned and scanned the images of the crime scene and the victim once more. After a first quick look at the actual place, the young man had insisted to take a second look at the scene through pictures taken there. Something had nagged him there and until he hadn't found out what, he would keep on looking. The simple set of furniture, the Asian lamp on the board, the position of the body...Wilson Ramirez, Wilson Ramirez...

"So." Lisbon's voice made him glance up and cross her emerald eyes. In a blink, he knew what bothered him.

"I know the guy." he blurted. "Wilson Ramirez was a friend of Red John. I heard his name at the office a few times." A hint of anger appeared in his eyes. "Why didn't I think of him before?"

Lisbon sat next to him and put her hand on his forearm, soothing him with a gentle tap.

"You can't remember all the names at once Patrick."

The young man grunted something and handed her a notepad. A series of names were listed horizontally and a few words had been added next to them.

"Those are the folks I remember her mentioning. I'll send a copy to Brooke tonight. She's still under contract with me but I have a feeling she might want to renegotiate a few things." He paused and glanced at her. "What did Hightower want?"

"An update on the situation." She paused and added softly: "Cho will keep an eye on you for the next few days. At least until a lead on Red John is found out."

The young man raised an eyebrow.

"Why won't you 'keep an eye' on me? Afraid you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself?" The suggestive tone made her roll her eyes before he turned serious again: "What about you? You're staying with Van Pelt?"

Lisbon shook her head.

"No I'll be fine."

Jane scanned her face closely.

"You didn't tell Hightower, did you."

"Tell me what?"

The black woman had apparently just walked out of her office, still nearsighted. As her name was pronounced, she stepped closer to the pair. From their desks, Van Pelt and Cho tried to hide their eavesdropping.

"Lisbon was also threatened during the call."

The black woman stared at the brunette with a disapproving glare. Lisbon winced inwardly but held her superior's gaze.

"I am far from being harmless ma'am," she said smoothly. "I can defend myself."

"What if she shows up with Betty?" Jane went on without listening to her. "What if she found another 'Dumar'? As strong as you are, I doubt you'll be able to resist to a blitz...heck you were even lucky to survive your first kidnapping! If I hadn't been there you would have drowned and no-one would have found your body."

This time, the whole team stared at Lisbon. The woman's cheeks flushed and she looked away. Of course, they had never mentioned that particular event before; Jane had kindly told someone at the CBI she had been sick. She vaguely wondered if the reason had been his probable lack of credibility in Hightower's eyes. The black woman distrusted him at the time and might not have believed him if he had claimed saving her.

"No big deal; I survived." She muttered.

Jane shifted his weight as he leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. The two other team members left their desk to join the conversation.

"You only survived because I overheard their plans. Lisbon, if they come after you and you are alone, we won't even…" his voice faltered a second. The young man cleared his throat and went on: "My point is, someone should stay with you too. Or we could all crest in the same nest for a while."

"Good idea," Hightower intervened before turning towards the brunette: "You should have mentioned this Agent Lisbon. Attempt of murder on an officer..."

"I had no evidence of who it could have been," the woman replied dryer than she intended. Not being in control of the situation made her uneasy and snappy.

"Still. You and Patrick," Lisbon blinked in surprise at the use of his first name; when had Hightower accepted Jane as a consultant and no intruder? "will be placed under surveillance for the next few weeks. I don't want to take the risk the safety of another agent. Any objections?"

"Perhaps both Cho and I could alternate the surveillance?" Van Pelt offered. "I mean, it wouldn't be fair for just one of us to be on stakeout."

The Asian man nodded his agreement.

"So this is settled." Hightower concluded, satisfied. "Now, about the lodging."

They all glanced at each other, waiting for someone to make a suggestion.

"I have a guest room" Lisbon eventually grumbled, glancing at the Asian man.

"What about me? If Cho takes the guest room, does that mean we can share your bed?" Jane piped in cheerfully. Lisbon glared at him.

"You," she grunted with narrowed eyes. "Are taking the couch."

 **-AH-**

Two weeks had gone by since Rouge Johnson's phone call. No other bodies nor traces of her were found in town. In spite of all the precautions taken and the arrests made. Jane's list of name helped in a few investigations and Brooke had narrowed the places Red John was susceptible to hide. But otherwise, they were still nowhere concrete to catch the woman. During those two weeks, Jane, Lisbon and alternatively Cho and Van Pelt had lived together, working cases and watching their backs. It came to a point where the brunette insisted they no longer needed surveillance -and the fact strangers were invading her personal space unnerved her more. It was decided that Jane and Lisbon would remain together nonetheless, if only to make sure they weren't alone in case of an unexpected attack.

And so far, nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

As Lisbon drank her decaf, one distracted eye leading to the living room, she thought sharing her life with Jane only hadn't been so bad. The young man was surprisingly respectful of her personal space and had not tried to overstep boundaries yet. She knew it was just a matter of time before he attempted to catch her full attention again, to figure out what she had in mind concerning them. In complete honesty with herself, she didn't know. The only thing she was certain of, she had no intention of letting him go.

The woman stood from her chair, headed towards the sink, put her mug down and made a decision. Jane had demanded a kiss to make him stay. Perhaps it was time to give him some more...

"Hey."

Jane tore his eyes away from the TV and glanced at Lisbon standing next to the sofa. She wore an old gray sweatpants and black tank top, and her hair was loosely tightened in a low ponytail.

"Comfy, eh?" he replied with a smile, his eyes scanning appreciatively her figure. Lisbon chuckled and dropped on the cushions next to him.

"Well, you did see me with less than that, so why should I hold back?"

"Good point." He admitted with a nod before returning his focus to the TV show. Lisbon made herself comfortable on her side of the couch and asked:

"So, what are we watching?"

"I wasn't really paying attention. Wanna put a movie on?"

"Sure."

The woman got up and was about to walk away when she felt something tapping her leg. She glanced at the man and realized his fingers were holding back her sweatpants. His eyes were back on her.

"Did you come to me with an idea in mind?"

Lisbon's breath got caught in her throat as she met his intense gaze. Butterflies flapped in her belly and she bit her lower lip. His fingers toyed with the fabric covering her legs before flattening his whole palm over her thigh. Creeping higher. Brushing her waistband. Slipping under her tank top. The gentle touch of his fingers over her skin made her shiver and she closed her eyes to appreciate it fully.

"Did you?" he asked again, his voice barely a whisper now. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly.

"Maybe."

His hand stilled over her hipbone. The contact burned her skin.

"Are you sure?" Jane's voice was still filled with uncertainty. Did she want a booty call, or was this for real? Was he forgiven, or was this just a reward for being good? He dearly wished her actions followed the first reason. Her hand cupped his cheek and her eyes softened.

"Are you?"

His face brightened. He leaned in her palm and closed his eyes.

"Always when you are."

And when she straddled his thighs and kissed him, both knew they were up for a very short night.

 **-AH-**

When Lisbon woke up the next morning, she observed a few changes in her environment. First, someone was breathing close to her face, second, a soft hand was trailing up and down her back slowly and third...

"Don't tell me you've been watching me sleep," she muttered, trying unsuccessfully to narrow her sleepy eyes at his blue-green ones. The shameless smile she got in return answered her promptly.

"Can't help it," he replied quietly, his hand stilling over her hip. "You looked so peaceful."

"That's creepy," she grumbled, closing her eyes again, eager to return to dreamland. Jane didn't let her though. She had barely shut her lids he was rolling her on her back and kissing her awake. Wandering fingers found their spot between her legs and Lisbon clung to her lover as he set his mind on making her scream his name once again. Later, Jane dropped suddenly:

"I wouldn't be surprised if Red John attacked today."

Lisbon detached her eyes from the ceiling and side-glanced at him.

"Why? Because we had sex again?" she asked before adding sarcastically: "Seems like each time we're getting comfy she shows up."

Jane chuckled. He rolled over and kissed the top of her head.

"We're letting our guard down. The surveillance is gone, Brooke has limited her moves and hideouts and our mind is preoccupied by other stuff." He gave another peck on her forehead before whispering: "I can't think of anything else but you."

The intensity of his eyes made her uneasy and she had to look away. His lips seek for a kiss on her cheek before he pulled her against him. At first, she was about to pull back, but the slight trembling of his arms stopped her. Touch didn't bother her that much, she just didn't like prolonged contact. Unfortunately, Jane was a very tactile person. Whenever he teased, reassure or wanted to be reassured, his hand would reach out for her and brush her. And even though it annoyed her at first, Lisbon came to get used to it and even like it, although if she would never admit it. She liked he turned to her for comfort, that he trusted her enough to show his vulnerable side when they were alone.

"I think I'm falling for you."

The whisper was so low she barely heard it. But when he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, leaning again for a kiss...she stopped him by putting a finger over his lips.

"Are you serious?"

Her voice was as faint and vulnerable and she hated it. She hated he could break her barriers, make her act unlike herself...yet she loved it. She loved the idea of laying down her walls for him, letting him in, loved the way he could make her smile without even trying, how he never beat around the bush with her, treated her like the strong and yet fragile woman he pictured her. She felt ready to accept him completely, but not if he was considering them as a short shot. The glint in his eyes left her breathless.

"Yes." His hand cupped her cheek and his face turned sober. "Are you?"

He would be her first commitment in years. He would easily break her heart if she said yes. But for once, she was ready to take the risk. Instead of answering, she closed her eyes and gently pressed her mouth against his.

"How sweet," someone spoke from the doorway. "I really hope you enjoyed yourself, because that was your last moment together."


	20. Chapter 20

**Thus comes the last chapter…hope you will enjoy the ending :)**

 **Nathalie:** I thought it would be kinda obvious, but so realistic in the context…Patricia/Patrick and of course Baker xD. She's him but in an older and wiser female way xD And yeah, sorry, but all good things have an end.

 **Sen:** Hee glad you liked it :D!

* * *

 **The Agent and the Host**

 **20**

Jane and Lisbon separated immediately reflexively and reached for covers as they spotted their intruder. Red John was standing in the doorway, pointing a gun at them, a wicked grin on her face.

"Oh how long I have waited for this moment" she whispered nudging her firearm. "I can't wait to see you drowning in your own blood." Her eyes set on the brunette. The woman shivered uneasily at the malicious glint in the madwoman's eyes. "And I swear I will enjoy every second of your agony."

Lisbon cursed at the thought of her gun in the nightstand; even if she moved, one bullet and she would be done.

"Please, you must have some better comeback. Those comments are so clichés from bad guys."

Lisbon blinked and stared at Jane in surprised. He looked rather cool, not exactly overconfident but not exactly nervous either. As if a madwoman pointing a weapon at him while he was in his bed and naked was a recurrent event. Rouge chuckled.

"Playing the sarcastic till the end. You will never cease to intrigue me, Patrick." the corner of her lips remained turned upwards as she glanced appreciatively over his chest. "I have to confess, you are the only man that caught my attention so long. You made Dumar and Betty jealous, you know? I had to tell them I would take care of you pretty soon to sooth them." Her slight smile turned into a pout. "I swear it's really too bad you wouldn't join us. You would have been such a good...asset."

Her amused laugh made Lisbon's guts twist. She quickly glanced at her partner, see how he was coping and did not expect that look of concentration on his face. The same she had seen the night he had broken her jaw. And Lisbon knew he was waiting for something. Again.

"You are so quiet Agent Lisbon." The brunette returned her attention on Johnson as she felt Jane tense. "Tell me, does Patrick call you 'Teresa' now? Is he a little more protective of you?" the woman smirked: "Do you call him 'Patrick' too? Is he good in the sack?"

A gunshot echoed in the room and Rouge cried out in pain. A red spot grew on her shoulder. She turned towards the corridor, where the shot had been fired, and returned the fire. The momentary distraction was enough for Lisbon to pull Jane into the ground on her side of the bed and reach for her own weapon. A firm stare urged Jane to stay down and unmoving and then Lisbon pointed her gun to the intruder and fired at her shoulder. Johnson stumbled backward, disappearing behind the door in an attempt to duck for cover.

"Drop the weapon Johnson." Lisbon shouted warningly.

Red John's gun showing from her hideout was the only answer. Bullets fired blindly, some hitting the mattress and the plaster on the wall, but sparing them both.

"Like hell it's going to happen!" she heard the woman reply.

The agent spared a few seconds to analyze her situation: Johnson was stuck between the door of her bedroom and, if she wasn't mistaking, another shooter taking cover in the kitchen. Although she had no idea how well-trained her unknown ally was, she knew the killer had no way out. Except maybe...The sound of a window opening was all Lisbon needed to peek again and take a chance to spur into action: Red John was trying the only exit available: the corridor window.

"Stop it right now or I'll shoot!" she warned, preparing herself to pull the trigger. The woman shot in the wide in retaliation making Lisbon take cover and by the time she checked again, Johnson was gone. A quick glance confirmed her fear; she had landed on a bush nearby and was racing to a red SUV, limping from her fall. She was gone in a blink of an eye.

"Clear," she muttered angrily, mentally noting the driver's license place and putting her weapon back in place.

"You guys alright?"

Lisbon was not expecting to see Brooke Harper sneaking out from the corridor, hand firmly clenching a gun. The agent suddenly remembered her state of undress and nodded her thanks before rushing back to her bedroom for some clothes and next, her cell phone to alert the headquarters, if the neighbors hadn't called the police yet. Patrick had put his pants back on and walked out of the bedroom in turn. The young man and the ex-con were left alone.

"Well, thanks for the hand." he said. "Pretty sure we needed the distraction."

Brooke snorted and shook her head.

"I recognized Johnson's car in the parking lot, so here I am playing the hero;" her expression turned serious again. "Walter's needed in England and we'll probably be staying there for a while. I just came to resign and cut all ties definitively."

Jane smiled slightly, amused by the sudden uneasiness in her eyes.

"I get it, don't worry." To lighten the mood, he added, teasing: "Did he manage to make an honest woman out of you?"

"Something like that" she replied with a smirk. "Are you going to let her make an honest man out of you?" she added, nodding towards Lisbon, standing in the corridor, barking on the phone. Jane shrugged.

"It'll depend on what _she_ wants."

The ex-con smiled gently.

"Don't mess up Patrick. You deserve your happy ending too."

"Yeah, well, good luck putting up with your beau. I heard he wasn't easy to handle."

They both exchanged a firm handshake, knowing this was probably the last time they would see each other. Then Brooke turned around and left the room.

-AH-

The red suburban's wheels hissed as their owner crashed the gas to stop the vehicle. Rouge stumbled out clumsily, clenching at her bleeding shoulder. She limped inside the warehouse and tripped over the first steps. A loud curse bypassed her lips as she hit the ground.

"Betty!" she yelled angrily. The pain in her shoulder and leg increased drastically and she had to crawl inside the house before shutting the door close with a kick. The blonde should have been there, ready to back her up. And obviously, she hadn't shown up. Johnson cursed herself; she knew how partnership worked. She should have known that even the most loyal follower turned out to be faulty one day. "Betty!" she called again.

The time, the woman slowly stepped out of the end of the corridor, dressed in black leather, her face paled with make-up. Had Red John been more attentive, she would have noticed the butcher's knife attached to Betty's belt and the gun in its holster. Had she not been so angry, she would have seen the murderous intent in her eyes.

"You lousy slut! Unreliable! At least help me get up now." Rouge ordered dryly. The blonde didn't bulge.

"Why should I?" she asked in reply. Red John stared at her partner in disbelief.

"Are you disobeying me?"

Betty shrugged and took a step closer. Instead of helping her up though, she smashed Rouge's hand under her foot. Red John yelped in pain.

"What the hell are you doing!"

"I told you going that was a dangerous move Rouge." Betty started slowly. "You could have listened to me, but no, you had to do it your way as you always do." She paused, narrowed her eyes. "Up until now, you have dictated my life, supervised my every moves...You taught me to stay under radar, hide evidence of your dirty work, how to enjoy the feeling of a kill and yet you never let me have a taste of it! You had your fun, and now it's my turn." She knelt, pulled her own gun out of the back of her belt and held it against Rouge's forehead. "Your body will never be found; you should thank me." A sad yet sadistic smile grew over her face: "Red John shall never be arrested."

-AH-

"I don't think she'll be back."

Lisbon glanced up. Jane was standing nearby the couch, a paper in his hand. She almost asked who was the 'she' the young man was talking about when she spotted that particular expression on his face. The one he usually bore when _that_ woman was mentioned.

After the late house invasion, the search had lasted longer; Rouge Johnson's portrait was broadcast on TV and a picture of her could be seen in every newspaper. While neither Jane or her thought the woman would make a move on them any soon -if she had not left the country yet, he hadn't offered to move out of her apartment and she hadn't hinted he should go. If the woman had been honest with herself, she didn't want him to leave. Their life had turned way too comfortable.

"Why?" she asked, using a cool, soft tone. Then, she realized he was holding a letter. "What's that?"

"A...good-bye gift I suppose" Jane reply quietly. He sat next to his lover and handed it to her. "I'm not sure what to make of it honestly."

Lisbon took the piece of paper and unfolded it. There wasn't much to see through. A golden eye-patch tainted with blood was scotched along with red hair to a small hardback card, accompanied with a single scribing: _THANK YOU FOR FREEING ME,_ B. A red and black Yin-Yang was drawn on the lower left side. The woman asked uneasily:

"Is this what I think it is?"

"If you mean Red John's eye-patch, I think so." The young man stared at the note. "I don't recognize the writing style but I'm pretty sure that thing belonged to her."

A heavy silence fell in the room as they glanced at each other again.

"B as Betty?" Jane suggested. Lisbon shrugged.

"It would make sense. I just hope Johnson didn't train her to be a psychopath too." the agent paused and stood up: "Take the stuff with you when we leave for work. We'll see if this gives us any indication on her new hideout."

As it turned out, the blood on the eye-patch and the red hair did belong to Rouge Johnson, but no other print on the hardboard card or the letter gave any hint on her location. They had no idea about if the woman was still alive for that fact, and felt that unless she made a spectacular reappearance, they would never hear from her again.

"Teresa?"

At the faint whisper of her name, the woman shifted a little more on her back and glanced over her shoulder. As the eyepatch had given no information, they had returned to her apartment and since Lisbon was in no mood to stay alone, they had agreed he should stay over. They had taken a seat over her couch and had been watching TV when his voice interrupted the documentary on safari life. Her lover was wearing a pensive expression over his face.

"What is it?"

"Do you ever…" his voice trailed off, as if deep in thoughts. "Do you think Red John created a monster?"

"What do you mean?"

He shifted in his seat, faced her directly.

"Betty was mentally unstable and fragile, but she wasn't a bad woman at first." His face contorted into a pained expression. "We were just coworkers but I liked her."

"And you don't want to see her become another Red John?"

"Whether she becomes another killer is a choice she makes on her own." His fingers trailed over the curve of her shoulder, down to her arm and rested on her wrist. "I just don't want her to come after the people I love."

Lisbon smiled sadly.

"There's nothing we can do about it; but if it happens, we'll just have to deal with it in due time."

Jane nodded, but seemed unconvinced. He leaned closer and kissed the spot behind her ear. Small shivers shook her spine and Lisbon closed her eyes momentarily. When his fingers crept underneath her shirt and moved back north to capture a breast, she tensed. Since the Red John invasion, they hadn't been intimate, even though she had cleared the field and in all honestly, Lisbon hadn't been in the mood. Like she had underlined before, something always seemed to happen each time they fooled around.

"May I?" His voice was a tickle in her ear. His wandering hand released its prize and crept lower this time. He deposed another small kiss over her shoulder, brought his body closer. Lisbon felt him against her back and, taking her silence for approval; he bypassed the barrier of her waistband and stopped over the junction of her thighs.

"May I?" he repeated, more insisting this time. She rolled on her back, slid a hand behind his neck to bring him closer and kissed him as a response.

-AH-

The blonde woman lowered her binoculars and returned to her car. She had to drive up a savage hill to get the best vantage point to spy on Lisbon's place. Only one window was opened to view if one got high enough with the proper equipment, and Betty was glad Rouge had showed her that spot. So Patrick Jane was lost to that cop for good. Shame, she thought, recruiting him would have been fun. He might have shown some reluctance, but she had learned how to bring over people on her side from the best.

She decided she would change State, and start over. No need to involve her ex-coworker and the people who had nearly gotten Red John; she wasn't experienced enough to start an organization on her own yet. Her efforts would be rewarded if they were ever brought on her case, she concluded.

"Why hello lady."

The slur came from a drunken man tumbling toward her. In the outside rearview mirror, she evaluated his size (taller that her), strength (probably stronger than her, but the way he walked indicated he had drunk quite a bit and his movements would be uncoordinated) and palmed the contour of her knife hidden in her belt. Moments later, the man was lying on his back, a blade embedded in his neck and his stomach opened to view. Betty neatly cut out the organs and buried them in a deep hole. The man's body, now emptied of its organs and considerably lighter, was dragged into near bushes.

She had chosen this place as a temporary viewpoint, knowing it was mostly deserted. The unfortunate fellow's body would not be found before a very long time, if ever.

As Betty returned to her car and started the engine, she made a list of things she would have to change in her operating mode. Then, she selected a town to start anew and drove to reach the road.

Red John's reign of terror had ended. Now, she thought, wiping some blood off her face with the back of her hand, hers was to begin.

* * *

 **Before anyone starts asking, no,** **I won't write a sequel** **. As I said first chapter, this is an old fic I fixed a bit before publishing and even back then, I thought it better left as such. Open ending and all…my favorite kind :)**

 **Thank you for reading so far and many thanks to all the people who favorite and reviewed this! I'll just say, until next time ^^**


End file.
